Night

Garrett walked upstairs to Cass's room. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Grace just learned that you're here."

"Good for her. She can go cry in her bucket now. Bet you didn't tell her I don't want to be."

"No, left that out."

"Of course."

"She's an... employee of mine."

"She's your whore and your spy, don't mince words."

"She is only a sorry replacement for you."

Cassidy said nothing, but placed her hands, which had been brushing her hair, into her lap.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I wasn't physically hurt any, which you know."

"I know."

"So I suppose I'm fine."

Cassidy fiddled with her hairbrush.

"Are you comfortable here?"

"I don't like being cooped up. Which you know."

"I know."

Cassidy was silent, facing away from him. There wasn't anything to say... at least nothing nice.

"You're mad at me."

And he was being nice, so there was no need to lash out. She put the hairbrush down next to her and fiddled with the string of the robe. "I'm not mad."

"I'm trying to make you as comfortable as possible."

"Right, there's just the minor fact that I'm your prisoner that makes that difficult."

"Exactly. But I can't let you go."

"Why?"

"Why? Because you can tell Callahan where I am. And you're too valuable to him as an agent."

"Actually, I have no idea where I am."

"You’ll figure it out."

She shrugged. "Maybe." She picked up the hairbrush again and brushed her hair. The dark dye was starting to fade out of it.

"I like the red a lot better."

"So do I."

"You're still as beautiful as I remember."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she was silent, still brushing her hair. "It's getting long again, I'll need to cut it soon," she said rather absently, as if she hadn't heard him.

"I used to love it long."

"Gets in the way."

"It's beautiful." He said, taking a strand between his fingers.

"Thank you."

"So are you."

"Thank you," Cass repeated, having to stop brushing because his fingers were in the way.

He kissed her cheek softly.

Cassidy closed her eyes. 'He said he wouldn't,' she told herself. 'He said. He wouldn't lie about *that.*'

"I'm sorry." He said, pulling away.

"It's fine. I'm just... jumpy."

"I'm not here to hurt you."

"I don't know if I trust you."

"I understand."

"You would. You don't trust anyone. And you don't care for anyone."

"I do so."

"You don't."

"I do."

"You're a talented liar, but I know better," Cassidy said, looking at him. "I'm not a naive little girl any more, Garrett." She realized it was the first time she'd addressed him by name and wondered what was wrong with her and if he'd notice.

"Cass, please. I'm not lying."

"What are you saying?" She asked, careful not to use his name this time.

"I'm saying that I had to lie to you before."

"You used me, Garrett." Damnit! She had to stop it. He was Spencer, he was the enemy.

"No. I didn't!"

"You did. You told me so yourself, you got rid of me. I was this little kid, and you used that."

"I did say that that is what I did, but I swear to you that's not how it was."

"Right."

"I was trying to keep you from hurting me."

"Because a little girl is going to do that much damage to you!"

"Emotionally? Yes."

She snorted.

"I'm serious."

"I think you're full of shit."

"Fine."

"Garrett?" She said suddenly, after a moment's pause.

"Yeah?"

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Don't..."

"I'm not."

She was silent a moment. "Stay. If you want."

"I do want."

"That was not a fast pass into my pants."

"I know."

Cassidy stretched out on the bed, sliding over to make room for him.

Garrett lay down next to her.

They stayed like that a moment. "This shouldn't be taken as an indication that I like you."

"I know."

"I just feel sentimental."

"I didn’t want to hurt you Cass, but what you said..."

"Was the truth."

"It hurt."

"You're the one who said my parents abandoned me. And told me to leave. 'You're a good fuck, use that to get yourself somewhere,'" she echoed.

"Because if you stayed you'd get hurt more."

"That's shit."

"No it's not."

"I was nineteen. And you broke me."

"So what if I had begged you to stay?"

"You wouldn't have had to beg," she said quietly.

"I didn't know what to do."

"I wanted to understand. That was all."

"And if I said, yes, I run this operation you would have said, Oh Okay."

"I would have asked you why."

"And I don't know why."

"Maybe we'd have looked at that."

"We can't change the past."

"Obviously." 'And you blew it, you blew it with amazing talent.' She wanted to scoot away but found herself sliding closer.

Garrett placed a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry."

"The tracer came out no problem. Not even a bruise."

"I know. I told them if they hurt you they'd die."

"Well, you have good people."

"I do."

Cassidy pulled the robe tighter about her, aware of the short nightdress she'd pulled out of the closet. "Your tastes in dress haven't changed any."

"I'm sorry."

"Not complaining. You've got good taste, it's just the fascination with minimal nightwear that worries me."

"But you're so beautiful."

"Thank you." She turned to face him.

Garrett laid his hand on her cheek, looking in her eyes.

'You can't. You can't trust him!' A voice said, but Cassidy had trained herself to enjoy physical proximity, and she slid closer. They were *almost* touching now... but not quite.

"I have missed you...so much."

"I doubt you let yourself get lonely."

"They've never been you."

"Didn't stop you. Or me, for that matter."

"But you know what I mean."

She nodded.

"I just..."

"You just?"

"Now that you're here again..."

"Yes?"

"I realize how much I missed you."

Cassidy felt suddenly like a nineteen year old. "You missed having me in bed."

"No. I missed seeing you when I came home. I missed the smile that lit your face. I missed hearing you say you love me..."

"I can't trust you," she said.

"I know...and I know it's my fault you can't."

She nodded.

"But one day maybe you can."

"You hurt me. Garrett, I've never pretended to be a perfect little housewife in training, but it's not healthy to be bitter and angry and spend the rest of my life using men."

"I love you." He said.

"You hurt me," she repeated.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't understand love."

"Yes you do."

She shook her head no.

"You loved me once."

"I thought so. I don't know what it was... Love's not supposed to go away. No one who was ever supposed to care about me has, what am I supposed to know about love or family?"

"I love you. It's never gone away."

"I don't understand," she repeated, the last inches between them closing as she scooted the last tiny distance toward him.

"Yes you do."

"I know what it feels like when you're cold and someone reaches out to pull you close as if they know what you're thinking. I know what it feels like when someone kisses you and you don't want them to stop, because it seems like you're going to melt into each other. I know what the physical is. I remember you. But I guess I'm no good at the abstract concepts."

Garrett held her close. "You used to know..."

She closed her eyes. "If I think back as hard as I can, sometimes I think I remember my parents."

"Yeah?"

"I don't think they liked me very much. It was cold, and I was crying... she put me down and they walked away smiling."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't walk away. You pushed me."

"So that you would go."

"It hurt."

"I know that now."

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

"You aren't lying."

"No."

"Why?" She asked, sounding almost like a child. Why had they given her away, why had he hurt her?

"Because you would have been the target of so many people if you'd stayed with me."

'To keep you safe,' her mind supplied. Not that he'd say it. "If I stayed with you now, it'd be worse," she said.

"No."

"No?"

"No. They think you're here kidnapped."

"But your people..."

"What about them?"

"Wouldn't be fond of me. And the IMF would find out eventually..."

"Eventually, but it'd be too late."

"Too late?"

"They won't be able to find me."

"I'm not you."

"I know that. But I will keep you safe."

Safe. Was there such a thing? Her last words of the evening were almost inaudible. "If love is what I think it is... I love you."

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