#

 

You open your eyes and look over at the clock—2:30 A.M.  No nightmares. No dreams of Will stabbing you.  You shift in your position and feel large hands tighten on your bare waist.  A smile appears on your face and Robert's breath is like warm rain across your back.

 

"Couldn't 'leep?" he mumbles and his voice still sends shivers down your back. "Havin' nightmares?"

 

"No, not all.  No dreams at all," you whisper back. He pulls you closer to him and presses his lips against your shoulder.  The slight touch sends a small tremor through your body. You press your back into him and feel evidence of his excitement pressing into the lower quadrant of it.

 

"Be careful, Allison," he mutters and his grip tightens on your waist. "You won't get any sleep if you do that."

 

You look over your shoulder and meet his eyes.  "I had no further plans for sleeping tonight."  You press your back into him again and the look on his face tells you that he hadn't planned on it either.  "What about you?" you breathe while your left hand reaches behind you and touch the tip of his manhood.  He takes a sharp breath and uses his hands to move you against him.  The apex between your legs throbs causing you to gasp and twist in his touch. He slides his hands down your waist and covers you with both of his hands.  His thumbs flick your center and you're about to burst.

 

"Are you sure? We can just wait until later," he whispers against your neck. A soft kiss to your neck and you're willing to sign over your first born to him.  Stretching, you reach for a small foil package on the nightstand and hand it to him.

 

"If you don't finish what you've started, I don't think I could like you any more," you answer and press your back into him again. He chuckles and soon he's ready.  You bite your lip as he lifts you leg and slides into you.  Your back arches and there are no more words between you.

 

#

 

You sit in the vehicle and wait for Sean to join you. It's been more than a week since you've returned from the United States and you still can't get Robert out of your mind.  The conversation you had with him when you woke up in his arms echoes in your head. "You aren't a killer, Allison. Remember that."  You look out of the window at the urban cityscape of Paris, and a brief smile appears on your face when you think of how he made you remember to feel.

 

Your eyes continue to scan the street looking for a sign of Sean coming to meet you.  Are you a killer?  You'd like to think that you're past that.  Past the killing without purpose.  Sean wants you to kill Lauren, and you agreed to it. You try not to remember the look Robert gave you when you left Laredo, but find yourself not succeeding at it.  "Sean is a good man but he's fueled by revenge. Don't let it take you over as well."

 

"I hear your trip to the States went well, Allison." You smile as you hear Sean's Irish brogue next to you.  "Robert tells me that the surveillance went better than he expected and you were a real help in Mexico."  You look over at him and you don't miss the playfulness in his hazel eyes.

 

"Mexico was um—yeah.  Mexico was good."  You're blushing, and you can't remember the last time you've done that.

 

"Robert emailed the mission spec that you two discussed. Are you sure it'll work?"

 

"Sark and Lauren are cocky. I plan to use that to our advantage. They usually have three bodyguards and the pair retires at the same time every night.  For cell leaders, they seem to have grown lazy in their actions."

 

"And they are unaware of your status?"

 

"Well," you start and you wonder if you should tell him about your close call the first night you were in Mexico, and how Robert saved your ass. "I was a little cocky myself and tried to finish the job there. Robert was able to save my ass, but I think Sark saw me.  I'm not sure if he recognized me, but he looked at me for a very long time."

 

"Were you disguised?"

 

"I was wearing Robert's Stetson and a pair of sunglasses."  The minute you say the words you look over at Sean who gives you his best "I know what you've been up to" glance and smiles gently.

 

"So, no positive identification?"

 

"If you're asking me if they showed up at the door of our motel room, then no." You almost say something about how the two of you never left the room anyway but decide against it.

 

"Good. When you see Lauren, could you play this for me?"  He reaches into his dark trench and pulls out a gray audiotape.

 

Taking the tape from his hand you flip it twice and put it into your purse. "What's on it?"

 

"A sort of 'goodbye' to her, if you will. It is important that she feels the sort of pain that I did when her betrayal cost me my family."

 

You think back to Robert's words as you watch a myriad of emotions play on Sean's face.  "Sean, I have to ask you.  Why me? I'm sure that there were other people who would've gladly done this for you."

 

He looks over at you and a mysterious smile appears on his face. "Irina said that something like this deserved a personal touch.  She also has a message for Sark. 'Get your head back in the game. ' "

 

You smile to cover your shock.  Irina?! Sean leans over towards you. "Allison, when this is done, don't forget you can come back to Greece whenever you want.  You'll always be welcome there.  When you see him, tell Robert thanks for his assistance."  With that, he gives you a friendly kiss on the cheek and gets out of the car.

 

You watch as Sean blends into the crowd and soon is out of your site.  "Take me to the Hotel du Lourve. The service entrance."

 

#

 

You shrug out of the maintenance uniform as the service elevator reaches the floor where Lauren and Sark are staying.  By your count you have at least thirty minutes before the lovely couple come back to the room.

 

You pick up the black duffle bag you were carrying with you and make your way down the hallway.  Hearing heavy footfalls in the hallway, you press yourself against the wall to stay out of sight. You only saw two of the three bodyguards with Lauren and Sark—so it's safe to assume that the heavy footfalls belong to the third bodyguard.  Pressing yourself flat against the wall, you wait until they fade away. You look around the corner and see a small camera in the corner and you remember the hotel specs you'd reviewed just the night before.  There are at least two facing the door and a third hidden in the hallway.  You press a button on a transmitter that an old contact made for you, and listen for the sequence of small clicks letting you know that the cameras have been shut down—if only for sixty seconds. Convinced that you are alone, you make your way quickly down the ornate hallway towards their shared suite.  You reach the door, and feel for the key card you bribed the maid for in the back pocket of your pants.

 

Sliding the key into the door, you pick up your duffel bag, and dart inside. A sequence of clicks start and the door shuts firmly behind you. You made it. A wry smile appears on your face, as you smell the familiar scent of the cedar cologne you bought for Sark during one of your weaker moments.  "Good to see that I haven't been completely forgotten. Too little too late, you son of a bitch," you mutter as you walk further into the room.  It's an opulent room, more gaudy than classy.  It's far from anything you've used in the past.  You look around the room, and see traces of the Julian Sark you once cared about. His black jacket is laid neatly across the back of a white chair in the corner, and the silver cufflinks you'd admired in the past are seemingly thrown carelessly across the deep mahogany dresser.  A quick glance at your watch, and you realize that you have less than fifteen minutes before you reveal to them that you are indeed very much alive.

 

You slide your bag onto the dresser, resisting the urge to send the cufflinks skittering.  You unzip the nylon, and its dark recesses yield to you the few essential toys for this job.  The small tape player goes to sit prettily next to the cufflinks.  Your usual six-inch blade now hangs lovingly at the small of your back.  The shoulder holster nestles snugly under your arm, and you smile as you quietly screw the silencer on to the gun.  Preparation finished, you yank the bag off the edge of the dresser and kick it to one side as it hits the floor.  Now all that's left is time.  You half-turn, and smoothly lever yourself up to sit on the edge of the dresser.  Crossing your legs, you reholster the gun, and then pick up the tape Sean wants you to play and turn it in your hands.   As much as you'd hate to admit it - you can't wait to see the look on their faces.

 

You don't have long to wait as you hear the door open and two voices talking excitedly.  The sound of them kissing would've sickened you a few weeks ago, but now you just want to laugh at them.  You shake your head as you hear a woman's low moan and you'd wager a guess that Julian is kissing her right under her ear like he used to do to you so long ago.  They stumble into the bedroom, hands everywhere, and clearly not noticing your presence in the room.  Sark turns Lauren's back to you and opens his eyes.

 

"Hello, lover." You say with what you feel is a truly wicked smile on your face. "Did you miss me?"

 

Finally she turns around and you are face to face with the woman who took your place. She's as tall as you, and she has a smirk on her face that you just want spend a day getting off.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sark reach for his weapon at the small of his back as usual. "Don't try it, Julian," you say while drawing your own weapon. "My business is not with you. Drop your gun and kick it to the other side of the room."  He hesitates. "Do it, Sark."  He drops the gun and kicks it the opposite side of the room.

 

"Lauren Reed, I presume," you say quietly while keeping your gun trained on Sark.  You can't help but to narrow your eyes at the other woman. She's attractive, and you can see why he would go for her.  Her cold eyes give the impression that she isn't to be trifled with, and you wonder when she'll make her move. "What was it, Julian, that made you leave me in that hallway?  Her? Or was it that pesky habit I had of coming back from the dead?"

 

"Is it you?" he asks you with such disbelief on his face that you laugh.

 

"Who the hell else would I be?" you ask angrily while keeping your eyes on Lauren.

 

"I thought you were dead in that hallway, Allison. I checked for a pulse."

 

"And obviously you fucked up, Sark.  I remember the moment you walked away to leave me to die.  But like I've said, my business is not with you, but with her.  An old friend would like to say hello, Lauren."  You depress the play button on the recorder.

 

"Bet you didn't expect to hear from me again, Laruen.  You screwed me and now I screw you.  I'd say it was nice knowing you but it wasn't.  I will say that you were an absolute great fuck. Really."

 

As the tape runs out, you notice that Lauren's face seems to have drained of blood. "He's alive?  Sean Murphy is alive?" she sputters, and you finally see that icy exterior crack.

 

"Sean is very much alive and very pissed at you.  Seems that the two of you," you start waving your gun at Sark and Lauren. "Are perfect for each other.  I have to admire it. Really."

 

"What do you want?" Sark asks, and you notice that he's moved away from Lauren and towards a corner of the bed. 

 

"Her blood.  Actually, Sean wants her blood, and I'd prefer to take it from your hide, Julian.  After all, you of all people should know how fast things change or opportunities arrive." You smile as he recognizes his own words coming back to haunt him.

 

"Sean Murphy was a fool," Lauren spits out and the cold exterior is back. "I used him to get what I needed. It was his own fault that he didn't bother to double check.  The bastard was too cocky for his own good."

 

You aim the gun directly at her head. "And so were you.  I could've killed you in Mexico. You were sitting in the open wearing a red sundress and that hair of yours pulled back in a very severe bun.  A quick slice across your neck and you would've been finished there. I doubt I would've made it out of Mexico alive.  Dying twice sort of puts a perspective on things."

 

And so does Robert.  You smile as you think of the big Texan.

 

His words play in your head.  "You're not a killer, Allison."  When you first found out about Sark and the Covenant's betrayal you wanted nothing more to make them pay for it. You were more than willing to kill Lauren to satisfy Sean's revenge and your pain.  But now as you look at Lauren with her pseudo-villainy oozing from every pore, you shake your head.

 

"You've been warned, Lauren. Sean won't be pleased but at least he'll know that he can get to you whenever he wants.  I did." You lower the gun and uncock it.

 

"I'm surprised. The Allison Doren I've heard so much about wouldn't hesitate at killing."  She says this as a taunt, and you're surprised that you don't rise to the bait. 

 

You holster your gun, and shrug. "That Allison is dead. Do us all a favor, Sark. Put a muzzle on your pet.  For a cell leader, Lauren, you're pretty weak."

 

"Bitch!" Lauren growls and quicker than a cat she's on you. You block her jab, but her quick kick to your midsection takes the wind out of you. It's been awhile since you've had to fight hand to hand with anyone.  You grab her by the hair and introduce her to your knee.  The blood from her nose soaks through your pants and seems to give you more momentum. She stumbles to the carpeted floor. You draw your gun and press it firmly against her head.

 

"Pull the fucking trigger!" she shouts through her own blood. You narrow your eyes as your finger dances on the trigger.  You want to ignore Robert's voice in your head and finish the job. You can't ignore it.  You aren't a killer. Not anymore.

 

"I'm not like you anymore, Lauren.  I'm done."  You say and quickly re-holster the gun.  "I'm done."  You turn on your heels.  Fuck it.

 

You pick up the duffle bag from the floor, and head towards the door. 

 

"Too bad," she says behind you, and you hear the soft click of a gun. "It would be rewarding to kill you if you were."

 

You reach into the small of you back for your knife and turn to face her.  She's slow. You can see it in her eyes.  With a quick glance at Sark, you turn the knife in your hand and throw it at your target.  It connects with a sickening thwat and Lauren's eyes widen as if she were shocked that you had it in you.  Crimson blood stains her pastel blouse and she falls to the floor.  You walk over to her and yank your knife out of the woman's chest.  You reach for the comforter on the bed to wipe it clean.

 

"I see that you still hate to be underestimated, Alli."  Your body stiffens at Sark's statement.  You've been here with him before.  He pisses you off and with a simple 'Alli', you'd forget what he'd done to make you angry.

 

"That amongst other things, Julian," you say quietly while standing up.  You put the knife back in the small of your back and turn to face him.  You look him over, and he still reminds you of the beautiful boy you fell for so long ago.

 

"Perhaps we could work something out. I'm sure that I could speak on your behalf.  You're much stronger than she ever could've been and the Covenant would be more than happy to employ you again."

 

A smile plays on your face and you walk towards him. "And what will you tell them about Lauren?"  You bite your lower lip and look up at him.  His eyes focus on the movement and you know you've got him.

 

He reaches for you and pulls you close to his body.  You can feel his hardness against your waist. "I'll tell them that Ms. Reed had an unfortunate incident.  She was expendable."

 

"Just like me?" you ask in your best "come hither" voice.  This is probably the only time you're grateful to still sound like someone else.

 

The haze in his eyes fades and suddenly he's focused again.  Before he can answer your question, you throw an elbow to his face and he falls backwards—hitting the corner of the dresser on the way down. He's unconscious.  You bend down to feel his pulse and find the beat still strong underneath your touch.

 

"Irina urged me to inform you to get your head back in the game, asshole," you mutter while standing up.  You pick up your duffle bag and leave the hotel room. "I have to say I agree."

 

 

 

#

 

You shield your eyes from the sun as your driver speeds off.  The dust spins around you as a gust of wind comes from the west.  Absentmindedly, you tug at your shorter coif.  You still look like her and there's nothing that you can do to change it.  You're learning to live with it.  Sean said that your shorter haircut made you look like an entirely different person. "I feel like an entirely different person," you said to him with a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before your flight left Greece.

 

The parking lot is more crowded since the last time you've been here.  The old place has even undergone some sort of renovation.  It's still tiny and somewhat cramped—but it's different somehow. Crossing the parking lot, you feel eyes on you. Curious eyes.  You stop in your tracks and look around.  A smirk appears on your face when your eyes land on an older man shuffling towards the entrance to the bar. He gives you a friendly smile and you return it.

 

"First rule, Doren, is not to be so damn obvious when trying to track someone."

 

You fight the smile that is trying to appear on your face when you turn on your heels to face Robert.  You expected him to be dressed in his usual dark colors even in the extreme heat of the area, but he's changed.  A lighter blue pair of jeans has replaced the dark jeans and the black shirt is gone too.  The man who you would've thought would never be without his black shirt is now wearing a blue plaid shirt.  He's still wearing his Stetson, but it's set back to the point where you can finally see his face in broad daylight. 

 

"What are you talking about, Santos? You're good, but not that good."

 

He gives you a genuine smile, and takes off his hat. "Sean called me this morning to tell me that you left Greece yesterday afternoon.  I was expecting you."

 

"So, you know what happened?"

 

"Yeah, I do. Sometimes we do what we have to do.  May not be the best thing but it just needs to be done."  He raises an eyebrow and reaches out to touch your hair. "You cut it."

 

Instantly, your hand goes to your hair and you tug at it again. "You don't like it."

 

"No! I do. It's just different that's all." His hand is still in your hair, and you are reminded of the last night in Mexico where he spent the entire night touching your hair.

 

"I'm different, too," you say and you notice a flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes.

 

"So am I," he responds while he brings his arm down and around your waist.  He brings you towards him and you lay your head on his shoulder.  Things are different and for once you don't want them to change.

 

 

 

The End

 

 

Music:

Lenny Kravitz, "American Woman", "See You Again"

U2: "Elevation", "Walk On"

Pink: "Trouble"

No Doubt: "It's My Life"