The blast had knocked Kate clean off her feet, and she'd landed hard, somehow rolling onto her side. Something sharp had hit her on the way down, and once down, she lay there unmoving, stunned. Her ears were ringing hardcore, so all she heard was muffled yelling that sounded like her name. Then hands turned her over.

"Kate?" The voice was far away almost. "Can you hear me? Kate!"

A hand rested on her cheek. Kate coughed, trying to breathe. Her right side hurt, and she touched it.

"No, don't," the voice said. "Don't touch it, Kate."

"What?" she asked, her voice a croak. Her heart was pounding like crazy, and the ringing in her ears was somehow getting worse. Her vision finally cleared, and she saw Brant kneeling in front of her shirtless and looking freaked out.

"Kate," he said. "Just sit still, okay?"

She felt almost groggy and numb. She looked down at her side, not fully registering that something was sticking out of her. It made her vomit, though. She felt Brant's hands sweeping her hair back and his voice trying to soothe her. She saw a few people milling around gesturing and looking scared. Police cars were there not long after, and she felt a bit of worry. Would they get found out? Her brain wasn't entirely functioning, though. It still couldn't comprehend why their car had blown up. Hadn't Brant checked it?

Then she realized: he hadn't.

She heard Brant talking when medics approached her. Then she was put on a stretcher and rolled away. She reached out a hand for him since he was the only person she knew here, and she felt him take it a moment later.

"She's my girlfriend," she heard him say to the medic.

"Alright."

She was loaded into the ambulance, which forced Brant to let her go until he was in there next to her. His grip was comforting.

"BPs good so far," one medic said. Kate tuned out the rest of their medical jabber. She felt really tired suddenly.

All she focused on was Brant's hand holding hers.

...

Brant felt cold as he sat next to Kate in recovery, his leg jiggling up and down quickly from stress. He so badly wanted a cigarette to help ease that stress, but he didn't want to leave her. They'd removed the piece of shrapnel that had lodged into her side, and she was still sleeping as he waited. He'd been looked after once someone saw blood on his feet, and he'd been given slippers and a scrub shirt to wear.

He'd called Nash from the hospital once he'd had a moment to let him know what happened. Brant was still trying to understand it, but the only thing he could think was Norman had decided they needed to die. This was not good, but he would deal with it. He was too busy beating himself up mentally for forgetting to check for a bomb to start with. He always did; how had he forgotten this time?!

Kate made a sound, and he watched her open her eyes and look confused.

"Hey," he said softly, and she turned her head to look at him.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The car blew up. You had some shrapnel removed from the blast," he answered. "Doc says you're bloody lucky it didn't hit anything serious."

She went to look at her side, lifting her hospital gown. She gave a groan and let it go before dropping her head back down on the pillow.

"That's gonna leave a scar," she commented.

"But you're alive," Brant said, and he knew she heard the same thing in his voice because she looked at him with a soft expression.

"I am," she agreed.

"It's my fault, Kate. I didn't check. I always check..."

"Brant, stop," she said. "We were both distracted...it was the middle of the night when we left...we weren't thinking clearly. It happens."

"Not to me."

"Well, now you're human, Mr. Robot," she said, and he worked his jaw but did give a very, very slight smile. Then she froze slightly. "Are we blown?"

"No. I gave our fake I.D.s."

"The laptop..."

It was Brant's turn to freeze. It was in the motel room with the rest of their things. His heart rate kicked up a bit suddenly. What if Norman somehow knew that they'd copied the information on that drive? What if that was the reason behind the bomb to kill them?

"Brant?" she prompted. He swore and got to his feet just as a police officer showed up. The cop was in his 30s with very tanned skin and dark hair. A slight beard was on his face. Brant stopped in his tracks, feeling wary suddenly. Was this Norman's way of finishing them off? Had he heard they'd survived?

The cop started to talk in French until Brant shook his head and advised he only spoke English. The cop apologized and started again.

"I just need you to answer some questions for me," the cop said. "Do you mind?"

"Can it wait?" Brant asked.

"I just want to know if you know of anyone who would want to hurt you."

Brant hid his scoff. Of course he did, but he wasn't telling this guy that. "No. I don't understand why this happened."

"What about you, Miss?"

"No," Kate answered. "No one."

"I see," the cop said, scribbling on his pad of paper. "And you, Miss, someone said you were, um, how do I say this..."

"Dressed like a hooker?" Kate asked, and the cop's face went a bit red and he cleared his throat.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"It's so stupid," Kate said with a smile. "We were role playing, and I went to the car to get something, and next thing I know, I'm on my arse with a piece of metal sticking out of me."

"Oh, I see," the cop said, his blush getting darker. "Um, what...what were you going to get? Sorry, I have to be as detailed in my report as possible..."

"Handcuffs," Brant said dryly. "That good? You got all you need from us?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Is our stuff still at the room?"

"For now. We were going to box it up and hold it for you..."

"I'll go get it," Brant interrupted. "You okay if I leave for a bit, darling?" He looked at Kate, playing along with this concept of them being lovers that she'd created even though he'd already told the staff he was her boyfriend.

"Of course," Kate answered. "I'm fine, really. Just need to sleep it off a bit more."

"Great. You mind giving me a ride?" Brant asked the cop, who appeared confused as to how he'd lost control of this conversation so quickly.

"Um, sure."

"Good. I'll be back in a bit, love," he said to Kate, standing up. She gave him a meaningful look, and he felt the cop watching, so he stepped forward and leaned down to her to do the only thing he could in this moment to avoid looking suspicious and like a liar.

He kissed her.

He heard her inhale at the contact of his lips on hers. He rested a hand on her cheek, smoothing his thumb over it lightly. Her mouth was as soft as he'd imagined as he pulled and pushed at her lips with his a few times. He pulled back slowly after a moment, and she met his eyes and looked a little bit dazed.

"See you soon," he promised. She nodded wordlessly. He turned to go with the cop following him. The entire way back to the motel, all he could think about was how close he'd come to losing her and how much he wanted to kiss her again.

...

Kate had expected a kiss on the forehead or her cheek or maybe just a brief hug from Brant. She had not expected him to full on kiss her and for as long as he did. It had left her feeling stunned.

And wanting more.

She stared at the ceiling, thinking. How could she want that? Brant was more annoying than anything and gruffer than Oscar the Grouch, but when he'd yelled her name and held her after the explosion, there had been something else in his voice that she hadn't recognized until she thought about it now.

He cared about her.

It had been a long time since someone outside of her family and Reggie had cared about her. She knew nothing would come of this, though, because he lived here and she lived in the States and, oh right, they might not survive this case at all since they were almost murdered just now. Kate was convinced Norman was behind the bomb, and she feared why. Had he figured out who she was? Who Brant was? Had he decided to eliminate them for that reason or because he simply didn't trust them? Had Kip told him about her leaving early and he was just done with her and Brant? She had no idea how they were going to proceed after this, but she trusted Brant had a plan.

She just hoped they would still have the laptop because without it, their way of taking down Norman just got a lot harder.

...

Brant engaged in the small talk with the cop only because he did not want to get flagged as suspicious. When they arrived at the motel, Brant exited the car and headed straight for their room. He located their bags in the corner where he'd left them, and, holding his breath and feeling like his heart was going to explode from how hard it was pounding, he opened his to where his laptop should be.

Relief at the sight of it made him almost gasp, but he held it together and zipped it back shut before standing up and shouldering the bag with Kate's in his hand.

"All set?" the cop asked.

"Yea."

"Shall I give you a ride back to the hospital?"

"Can you actually take me to a car rental place?" Brant countered. "That way we can continue on after Kate's release and not inconvenience you. I'm sure you have better things to do than chauffer me around."

"I don't mind." The cop shrugged.

"If you're worried about our safety, you don't have to be," Brant promised.

"For someone who nearly got blown up, you're very calm," the cop noted.

"What good is losing my head about it gonna do?" Brant countered, holding the cop's stare. For a moment, it looked like the cop was going to challenge him, but in the end, he just shrugged again.

"Alright. Car rental place it is."

"Thanks, mate."

It was a quieter car ride this time, but Brant didn't mind. Once he got dropped off, the cop offered his card for Brant to call anytime. Brant took it to be polite, but he doubted he would ever speak to this man again.

He went into the building and rented a car. He looked over his shoulder a few times, wondering if he was being watched. If Norman was behind it, did he think they were dead? Brant was still trying to figure out the exact reason for the murder attempt.

He'd find out when he walked up to that asshole's face and questioned him about it.

...

Kate opened her eyes when she heard footsteps, and for a second, her heart lurched in fear that someone was coming to finish her off, but when she saw it was Brant, she began to calm down again.

"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her. "Feeling better?"

"Slowly."

There was a bit of an awkwardness coming from him now, and she knew it was because of the kiss. She wondered if she should bring it up or just leave it alone. What good would talking about it do anyway? It was a cover for that cop, nothing more. She noticed he was now in a proper t-shirt with his jacket and shoes. That meant he got their stuff okay at least. She took a sniff and gave him an accusing look.

"You smoked," she said.

"Yep," he confirmed.

"Not fair."

"Too bad."

"I want one," she whined.

"When we get out of here, the first thing I'll do is give you one," he promised.

"Thanks." They were quiet again, and Kate tried to bring herself to say something about his kiss.

"Laptop was still there," he said quietly, looking towards the hall to check for eavesdroppers. No one was there.

"That's great."

"So my wondering now is why Norman wants us dead."

"Or maybe Gregorio was sending Norman a message," Kate said.

"For what, though? They're working together. Why dominate unless there's something better for the taking that he wants first..." Brant frowned, thinking.

"What's the plan?" Kate asked after a moment of silence. "Are you going to confront Norman? Or pretend to be dead?"

"I'm sure news of our survival will have traveled to his ears by now, and if not, it will soon."

"So confront him."

"Might as well see what the hell it was all about," Brant said with a shrug. Kate shifted her legs, feeling anxious and wanting to get out of there. She'd been stitched up and was ready to leave. She didn't even want to wait for the doctor's green light to get out of there.

"I bet you're really glad I suggested that nap now, aren't you?" she asked, and Brant looked at her for a moment before starting to chuckle softly, and she smiled in return.

"Best nap I've ever had," he confirmed, which made her laugh next. Then they sat there looking at each other, and Kate wondered what he was thinking. He was working his jaw slightly, and she couldn't help but think about how his kiss had felt...how it had ignited her inside.

How it had made her forget about everything that happened last night and the feeling of despair that she'd never see her niece again.

A nurse came in and bustled about, checking her over and such. Kate was a bit frustrated that she wasn't able to leave yet. When the nurse left, she looked at Brant with a raised brow.

"Care to bust me out of here?" she asked.

"When the timing is right."

She watched him jiggle his leg again and look at the floor. She so badly wanted to know if he was thinking about it like she was. He had to be. Cover or not, his kiss had been tender, not something quick and robotic. There had been meaning attached to it.

"I'm gonna call Nash," he said finally, standing up. "See what's going on."

"Okay."

He gave his usual curt nod, indicating his gruffness was back, and then he walked out.

...

Why was it so hard to talk about? Brant walked down the hallway of the hospital and asked himself this question. Why couldn't he just tell her that he'd meant it to be simply a cover but discovered he'd wanted to do it? Because otherwise, he would have just kissed her forehead or something.

But no, he had gone straight for the full thing.

He pulled out his cell phone, seeing that Nash had called him not long ago. He'd also been relieved to find it still at the motel. He clicked on Nash's number and pressed the phone into his ear.

"Hey, you good?" Porter asked when he answered.

"For now. You notice anything off about Norman right now?"

"Nah. My intelligence says he's just hanging out at his place."

"I don't get it, Nash," Brant said with a sigh. "Why the bomb?"

"No idea. Is Kate okay?"

"Yea."

"You still being nice to her?"

"What is your obsession with that?" Brant demanded, feeling annoyed.

"I just happen to know that you've been a single man married to the job for far too long, so that might make you a bit rusty when it comes to being nice to a woman."

"You really do have low confidence in me, don't you?"

"I didn't think I was hiding that," Porter replied, his voice a bit teasing.

"I don't tell you how to treat your blokes, do I?" Brant retorted.

"You don't have to because I'm better at relationships than you."

"Thanks a lot."

"Just speaking truth," Porter advised.

"We're gonna bust out of here as soon as we can," Brant said, looking around to ensure he wasn't being listened to. "Then I'm gonna have a little chat with Norman."

"You sure? The incident hasn't really hit the news here. Online it just says there was an explosion and unclear if anyone is dead or alive. No names or details are mentioned. You could use that to your advantage."

"If he's testing me, I want him to know that I'm invested," Brant argued. "If I run away or play dead and he finds out I'm alive, he'll know that he was right about me if he's having doubts."

"Fair enough."

"I still have all the information about his trafficking," Brant went on. "It's enough to bring him down."

"You really wanted the drug connection, though."

"Yea, but I'm pissed off enough now that I don't care."

"You're not gonna kill him, are you?" Porter asked. The question hung in the air, and Brant swallowed before answering.

"Nah. He ain't worth the bullet," Brant lied.

"I see."

"Stokes working on that case from France? The two girls?"

"Yea. Can't get over that one."

"Kate wanted me to intervene," Brant said.

"How do you mean?"

"We'd seen them at a pizza place, and Kate picked up that they were working girls. She wanted me to do something, and I didn't."

"You called me..." Porter tried.

"Yea, but that didn't do a lot of good, did it?"

"You can't blame yourself, Brant."

"I should've done something," Brant insisted. "Even if that looked like paying to have them for a night, just to keep them safe. I was too worried about keeping my cover."

"And rightly so. Norman's dangerous."

"But it cost them," Brant countered. "My inaction cost that girl her life and traumatized the other forever."

Porter was quiet. Brant didn't even know why he was talking about it. It was just bugging him, that's all.

"You saved Kate, though," he pointed out. "Maybe it doesn't make up for it in your eyes, but it's still something."

"I guess you're right."

"Ooh, can you say that again? I'll record it this time," Porter joked. Brant scoffed. He knew his partner was just trying to help him feel a little bit better, which he appreciated.

"I gotta go," he said now. "Keep in touch."

"Safe travels."

Brant pocketed his phone after hanging up and leaned against the wall with a hand pressed to his face. He felt a bit helpless once again; it was a hard feeling to shake. He loped back to Kate's room and found her sleeping. He stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets and took her all in.

She had come here to find her niece, had allowed herself to be put through hell to get here and continued hell once here. He couldn't let her down. He wanted to find Delia and send them both back home in one piece. The idea of Kate leaving, though, was almost like a punch to the gut. Brant steadied his breathing. He'd never really made time for a relationship. His work always came first. He had anger issues. He didn't trust people.

But he trusted Kate. He couldn't explain it.

So why had he kissed her? This was the big question, and Brant finally had an answer. He'd kissed her because for one moment, even though it was a cover, he'd wanted to feel like a normal guy who cared about his girlfriend who had just been hurt. He'd wanted to live the fake story Kate had created for that cop. He hadn't wanted to be the hardened cop who was hell bent on working himself to death in order to somehow avenge the death of his sister and mother. He didn't want to be the guy trying to get rid of drug dealers who sold the drugs that caused overdoses or the guy who beat up rotten men who beat on their wives. He just wanted to be a regular guy.

He sat down and reflected on this as Kate slept and the time ticked by. He eventually fell asleep himself, the adrenaline having finally worn off. When it was finally night time, he was ready to make his move to get Kate out of there.