The room went deathly silent at Weitz's pronouncement. Kurt reeled back as if he'd been punched in the gut. If Jane wasn't Marissa, then . . . "That's impossible," he said when he could finally draw a full breath. "Jane is Marissa. She has to be Marissa."

"Kurt," Mayfair said softly.

"No!" Kurt was adamant. "Jane has the scar that Taylor got climbing with me as a kid. Brianne wouldn't have that. And—"

"Actually," Jane interrupted hesitantly, "I've been having flashbacks of the time right after the explosion, and I remember feeling a bandage on the back of my neck then. I think . . . I think I got that scar in the explosion."

"It's possible," Mayfair said thoughtfully. "It certainly makes sense that you would have been injured then. Scars can't be dated, unfortunately, but apart from the location, there's nothing distinctive about yours that would set it apart from your sister's. And that would certainly explain why you haven't recovered any memories of Kurt."

"No!" Kurt said desperately once more. "No, that's not possi—"

"Kurt," Jane said gently. His eyes were red-rimmed as they met her gaze, and she felt her heart break at the pain in their depths. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I could change places with Marissa . . . if I could give her back to you . . . I would."

It was such a Taylor-like thing to say that Kurt felt fresh agony sear through his heart as he looked into the eyes he still couldn't quite believe weren't his wife's. He turned his back on the other occupants of the room, closing his eyes as he struggled to come to grips with a world without Taylor in it, to make sense of his life once more without her, and after a moment, Jane came over and hesitantly wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her to him without hesitation, cradling her head against his heart as the two of them grieved together for the loved one they had both lost, the woman one of them couldn't remember and the other would never forget.

He was dimly aware of Mayfair speaking to Weitz, suggesting that he give them time to come to grips with all they had just learned and regroup tomorrow to formulate a plan, but he could never afterwards remember how he made it home. He grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass, and dropped heavily onto the couch. The whiskey burned its way down his throat, and he closed his eyes as his mind flashed back to a similar occasion long ago . . .

xxx

San Francisco, California

September 2004

God, it had been a shitty day. Kurt took another healthy swallow of scotch as he sat alone in his darkened apartment. He'd had rough days on the job before, but nothing had prepared him for the carnage he'd witnessed today. A drunk driver had t-boned a young woman with her whole life ahead of her and snuffed out that future in an instant—a young woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Taylor. For an instant, he'd thought . . .

Kurt pushed that thought aside as he reached for his phone and punched in her number, no longer able to resist calling her. Desperately needing to hear the sound of her voice to reassure himself that she was okay.

It seemed to take an eternity for the call to go through, and his hands shook as he waited. "Kurt?" Taylor's voice was cheery, and he closed his eyes, basking in the sound of it. "Kurt?" she prompted again when he didn't respond, suddenly sounding much less upbeat. "Are you there? Is everything okay?"

"I'm here. I'm fine," Kurt managed, sounding less than convincing, even to himself. "I just . . . had a rough day at work, and I miss you. Tell me about your day."

Taylor obliged, and he drifted off to the sound of her voice. A smile crept to his lips as he slept, images from one of his favorite dreams of her playing across his mind. But this time, it was so real he could practically feel her hand in his. "I love you," he murmured. "God, I love you, Taylor. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too," Taylor choked out, her eyes filling with tears as she threw herself into his arms and kissed him.

Kurt's eyes flew open as her lips touched his, belatedly realizing that this was no dream, but instead of pushing her away as he knew he should, his arms banded around her as he deepened the kiss. He could no more resist her in this moment than he could the oxygen he needed to breathe. Although she was stealing that away from him as well.

She slipped her hands under his shirt, and the touch recalled him to reality. "Taylor," he said as he broke the kiss and gently pulled her hands away. "We can't do this."

"Why?" Taylor asked in frustrated confusion as she slipped off Kurt's lap and took a seat beside him on the couch. "I love you, and you just told me you loved me. So what's the problem?"

"I shouldn't have said that," Kurt muttered, glancing away, hoping she would just chalk it up to the alcohol he had consumed.

He should have known that was a vain hope. "Why not?" Taylor asked bluntly. "Did you not mean it?"

Kurt drew a deep breath. His confession had put him in an impossible spot. He had never lied to her, and he wasn't about to start now, but nothing could come of it. "I meant it. But I never meant to say it." He glanced back at her as he spoke, hating the pain his words put in her eyes. "I promised your mom I would never take advantage of this situation, Taylor. And I won't."

"And you fulfilled that promise," Taylor shot back. "I'm not a child any longer, Kurt. I'm a grown woman who knows her own mind—and I am head over heels in love with you. I don't need you to protect me, especially not from yourself. I just need you to love me."

"I do," Kurt groaned. "But—"

"No buts," Taylor said tenderly as she took his face in her hands and caressed the tears he hadn't even realized he had shed from his cheeks with her thumbs. "Trust me, Mom would be thrilled for us. She left me a letter giving us her blessing if we ever decided we wanted to make a real marriage out of this. I never showed it to you because I never thought . . ."

She shook her head. "I'll let you read it later, I promise. But for now . . ." She leaned in until their faces were so close they were sharing breath once more and waited until the despair in his eyes had been replaced completely with hopeful anticipation before sealing their lips together once more. "Make me your wife, Kurt," she murmured.

Kurt swept her up in his arms, grinning at her surprised shriek as he stood, and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. He sat down on the bed, cradling her in his lap as he resumed kissing her, and when she had melted completely into his embrace, he gently traced her lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. She opened for him with a soft moan, and he groaned in turn as his tongue brushed against hers, still hardly able to believe this was actually happening.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" he asked her when they finally drew apart for air, studying her closely as she nodded. Things had changed between them quickly—maybe too quickly. She was still so innocent of what was about to happen between them, and as erotic as he found the notion that she would always be completely his, he didn't want to rush into this and cause her to have regrets. They had their whole lives ahead of them to enjoy this, after all. "If you want me to slow down or . . . or stop at any point—"

"I'll tell you," Taylor promised, and Kurt leaned in to kiss her again when another thought occurred to him.

"Shit," he cursed as he drew back. "We can't do this now. I don't have any protection." He might have gotten the love and marriage before he became an FBI agent, but he wasn't about to follow that up with kids before they were both ready. He was determined to see Taylor get through medical school first. He never wanted to be the cause of her not achieving any of her dreams.

"It's okay," Taylor assured him. "I got an implant when we moved out here." She smiled at his surprised look. "I'm ready for this, Kurt. I have been for a long time." She closed the distance between them and kissed him. He groaned as she once again slipped her hands beneath his shirt, and she smiled as she felt his muscles flex beneath her palms as he pulled her closer.

Taylor tugged at the hem of his shirt, and Kurt obligingly leaned back to yank it off. She'd seen him shirtless before, but she couldn't help her appreciative perusal. Her cheeks flamed with color as she met his heated gaze, and she ran her hands across his shoulders and down his chest, relishing her newfound freedom to touch him.

Kurt shifted, flopping back against his pillow and drawing Taylor down with him. "I'm all yours." Taylor stared down at him, not understanding, and he reached a hand up to cup her cheek. "I thought I'd let you take the lead for a while, okay? I'm here for you—with you—but I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"Silly man," Taylor murmured as she pulled her own shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, leveling the playing field to his admiring gaze. "There's nothing you could ever do with me or to me that I wouldn't be comfortable with. I trust you, Kurt."

She reached for the button on her pants, but Kurt stilled her hands. "Let me." He sat up and pulled them oh so slowly down her legs, drinking in every inch of skin he exposed, and then placed his hands back on her hips, waiting until she nodded before removing her panties as well, leaving her completely bare before him.

"My turn," Taylor whispered, the shy tone of her voice at odds with the steadiness of her hands as she unzipped his jeans. He stood, and she pushed them and his boxers off him in one fell swoop, gasping slightly as her eyes took in the evidence of his desire for her. She glanced up at him as he laid back down and when he nodded, she tentatively wrapped a hand around his burgeoning erection.

Kurt closed his hand over hers, showing her just how he liked to be touched, how much pressure to apply, and she proved to be such a quick study that it wasn't long before he had to pull her hands away. "Did I do something wrong?" Taylor asked in confusion.

"Not at all," Kurt reassured her. "In fact, if you did anything more right, this would be over much too soon." He just hoped he could hold out long enough to make this as pleasurable for her as she already had for him. It had been far too long since he had done this, and he was already wild with desire for her. "It's your turn now."

Taylor took a deep breath as she reached for Kurt's hand. She closed her eyes as she brought it up to cup her breast, but they flew open again almost instantly as he brushed his thumb across a nipple. "Oh," she gasped softly, and he smiled at her before leaning down to take the sensitized peak in his mouth, laving it with his tongue before sucking gently.

She'd thought she'd known what to expect, but no amount of research could have prepared her for the sensations Kurt was evoking in her as he kissed a path from one breast to the other and gave it the same attention, each gentle pull of his mouth sending jolts of electricity straight to her core until she was writhing beneath him. "Kurt," she whispered desperately. "I need . . ."

She paused, not even sure how to put into words what she was longing for, but fortunately he understood. He cupped her jaw as he leaned back in to kiss her, tracing a path down her belly with his free hand but pausing just out of reach of the heart of her desire. She groaned in frustration. "Kurt, please."

Kurt's eyes locked with hers as he gently parted her folds with one finger and felt the dampness gathering there. She was nearly ready for him, but he wanted to ensure that this was as painless as possible for her. He swirled a finger around her swollen clit before slipping it inside her, smiling as she moaned and instinctively lifted her hips at his touch.

"You're sure?" he asked when he finally moved on top of her, searching her eyes for any flicker of uncertainty and relieved to find nothing but love and desire reflected there.

"I'm sure," Taylor replied confidently, and Kurt leaned down to kiss her one more time before guiding himself inside her, inch by painstaking inch. He nuzzled her neck once he was fully inside, too overcome by the feeling of her wet heat surrounding him like a glove to speak, but waiting until he felt the tension ebb from her body before he began to move.

He set a slow and gentle pace, watching her closely, and it wasn't long before she began lifting her hips to his, matching his movements thrust for thrust. He gritted his teeth as he felt her inner muscles begin to clench around him, willing himself to hold on for her, and he quickly pressed a finger against her clit to help her along.

She came with a choked cry, her green eyes beautifully unfocused, and he followed her over that cliff with a murmured assurance of his love for her.

xxx

Taylor hadn't given him long to bask in the afterglow, Kurt recalled with a bittersweet smile as tears rolled unchecked and unnoticed down his cheeks. He'd rolled onto his back as soon as he was capable of conscious thought, pulling her with him so that she was sprawled across his chest, and he was just dozing off when she spoke. "Don't fall asleep," she told him. "We have to get up."

"Don't wanna," he grumbled. He never wanted to leave this bed again. He never wanted to let her leave the safety of his arms. "Please, Tali."

Taylor glanced down at him in confusion at the unfamiliar name. "Tali?"

"Mmm," Kurt said. "You told me when we got engaged that I'd have to find a new nickname for you, and I finally did. Tali is Hebrew for dew." He'd found it when he was researching nicknames for Taylor, wanting something out of the ordinary like her, and it was especially appropriate now, since it would forever remind him of the dewy expression in her eyes as she came for him the first time.

"I love it," Taylor said, leaning down to kiss him.

"I love you," Kurt returned. He paused. "I'd love you even more if you didn't make me get up. Why do we have to get out of bed again?"

"Because," Taylor said, punctuating her words with kisses, "we . . . are going . . . on a mini honeymoon." She rolled off him and got to her feet. "But you can stay in bed for a while longer. I'll pack for both of us."

"You have school tomorrow," Kurt pointed out, but his halfhearted objection fell on deaf ears.

Taylor shrugged. "I'll play hooky. My grades are good enough that it won't hurt me to miss a day, and Monday's a holiday, so we can make a four-day weekend out of this. Besides . . ." She ran her eyes appreciatively down his naked form, and his breath caught in his throat as he returned the favor, already looking forward to making love to her again, "I'm not ready to get back to real life just yet."

"I'm not sure I could let you go anyway," Kurt said huskily as he got out of bed and retrieved their suitcases from the closet. They dressed and packed in near-record time, and before he knew it, they were on the freeway headed south, Taylor driving since he was still feeling the lingering effects of the alcohol in his system. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Someplace you've been promising to take me for a while," Taylor told him, keeping her attention focused on the road in front of her. "The happiest place on earth."

"Disneyland?" Kurt was stunned. "But that's an eight-hour drive!"

"Yep," Taylor agreed. "It's a good thing I'm well-rested. You should probably take a nap on the way. You've had a hard day, and you're going to need plenty of energy later. We're going to be busy, busy, busy when we get there."

And not just at the theme park, judging from her suggestive tone. "And you're crazy, crazy, crazy," Kurt retorted, loving their playful banter.

"About you, yep," Taylor grinned as she glanced over at him, effectively silencing him.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, taking her suggestion, and the next thing he knew, she was gently shaking him awake. He followed her into their hotel room, and the moment the door closed behind them, his mouth was on hers. They fell onto the bed together, all thoughts of the Magic Kingdom that awaited them fading as they focused on the magic they were creating between themselves . . .

xxx

New York City

Present Day

Those next four days had truly been the most magical of his life, Kurt recalled with a bittersweet smile. They'd talked and laughed as they explored the park, Taylor snuggling up to him as they rode the rides, using the scary ones as an excuse to cling even more tightly to him, and when desire inevitably got the better of them, they'd return to their room for another round of lovemaking before venturing out again.

It had been the best mini-honeymoon he could have ever asked for.

And now she was gone. Taking all his renewed hopes and dreams for the future with her.

Kurt buried his face in his hands and wept.

xxx

She'd had a sister. Kurt was her brother-in-law. Those two thoughts played on a repeating loop in Jane's head as she sank numbly down onto her couch. She felt like she should cry, scream, express some kind of emotion at having her entire world upended once more, but the only thing she wanted to do was the one thing she absolutely couldn't any longer.

She wanted to call Kurt.

What the hell had she been thinking, to target Kurt like this? Jane wondered. She should leave, just pack up her meager possessions and disappear, spare him the agony of seeing the face of the woman he loved on a stranger ever again. But just as soon as she'd made up her mind to do that, she realized doing so could put him in even greater danger from the group she'd been a part of. She owed it to her sister to make sure that the man she had loved fiercely enough to walk away from was safe.

She owed it to Kurt.

Still, the thought of facing him tomorrow . . . Pain lanced through her heart, and Jane bit down so hard on her lower lip that it bled. It hadn't been her all this time that Kurt had comforted, laughed with, kissed. It hadn't been her . . . but god, how she wished it were.

What kind of person did that make her? Not only jealous of the love a man had for another woman, but her own sister. Her dead sister, who had clearly been a much better human being than she was. And in honor of her memory, she would do the only decent, the only right thing she could, and eliminate the threat she had brought into Kurt's life before walking away forever. It wasn't her that he was seeing when he looked at her, but Taylor, and she would do well to remember that.

She would do well not to fall any more in love with her sister's husband than she already was. And when it was time to go, she would wish him well and walk away with a smile on her face and her head held high. Even if it all but killed her to do so.

The numbness was replaced with a searing agony, and Jane drew her knees up to her chest and wept.