Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cruz strolls through the villa grounds. Blood boiling. Cheek stinging from Ehsan’s backhanded slap. His words reverberating in her head, ‘I will throw you in the fucking sea.’ The grounds are busy. Wedding staff hustling about. Decorating. Placing food on tables. She turns a corner. Walks down a set of stairs. Finds a lawn filled with tables and women. She passes Aaliyah’s chosen-for-her friends. They glare at her. She’d laugh if she were in the mood. If she hadn’t just been dressed down by Aaliyah’s fiancé. If she wasn’t here to kill the father of the woman she loves. She hears a long, “Ahhh.” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. She glances up. Spots Aaliyah hurrying toward her. “I was worried you’d miss your flight!”

She’s radiant. Dressed in a skin-tight sparkling dress. One that somehow looks both black and gold. It hugs her curves perfectly. There’s a slit in the middle of her chest. Revealing the space between her breasts and the top of her abs. Cruz inhales. Remembering that patch of skin well. How she’d touched it. Kissed it. How Aaliyah had whimpered and moaned from the attention.

She smiles. Her first real smile since well before she left Aaliyah in bed to cry in the hotel bathroom. “Oh, yeah. Uh…” She trails off. Because Aaliyah is in her space now. Kissing her on both of her cheeks. She grips Aaliyah’s elbows. Returns the kisses. Continues. Lying, “They– I did and then I got another one. Airports, I don’t understand them.”

Aaliyah buys the lie. Running with it, “They are not for understanding. They are for avoiding. We need to find you a rich husband with a plane. And this is the place. Ugh.”

‘Ugh,’ is exactly what Cruz feels at that moment. She wasn’t sure what their reunion would be like. Knew they couldn’t return to those heady moments in Manhattan. But it still hurts to hear Aaliyah bringing up the husband business again.

Cruz fights through her hurt. Following Aaliyah’s gaze to the source of her disgruntled noise: her so-called friends who are talking with each other at their table. Aaliyah leans in close. Murmurs, “You are my excuse to escape. But first, come meet my mother.”

Cruz follows Aaliyah across the grounds. They stop in front of a group of seated women. Aaliyah begins speaking to a beautiful woman in a blue sequined dress. Introducing Cruz. Saying she’s going to show Cruz around. The woman grunts. Stares. Then turns back to whisper something to the woman sitting next to her. Cruz does her best not to react. She’s fine with the rudeness. But she knows Aaliyah isn’t. Knows there’s probably a story there. A story she’ll never be able to hear. Aaliyah leads her away. Lets out a sigh. Cracks a joke to disguise her upset, “You can see where I get my charm.”

They end up on a balcony overlooking a courtyard and a pool. The sun is beginning to set, but the the wedding staff are still going strong. Throwing rose petals on the ground. Arranging flowers on tables. Cleaning the pool.

“So, uh, what happens this evening?” Cruz asks. Out of curiosity. Though knowing the itinerary will also be helpful in terms of completing her mission.

Aaliyah begins answering. Her hands firmly gripping the railing in front of her. “This is the calm before the storm. Tomorrow people arrive during the day. Ehsan and I say vows, but that is private, just immediate family…”

Cruz perks up at those words. Thankful that she won’t have to witness that portion of the events. Aaliyah doesn’t seem to notice her relief. Continuing on with her explanation, “Then after that, the men go one way, and the women go the other. They have their celebration and party all night and we have our celebration and dance all night."

“Two different parties?” Cruz asks. Mind entirely on the mission now. Needing to sneak into the men’s side to find Aaliyah’s father will greatly complicate her task. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will be a justifiable reason to fail. She can leave in a few days. Tell Joe, ‘Sorry. I tried. But there was no way I could enter a party full of men unnoticed.’ Assuming Aaliyah’s father does attend. That’s still uncertain.

“It’s practice for the rest of my life.” Aaliyah answers. Mood glum. Resigned. “And the parties don’t start ‘til late, ten at night, but I can’t show up until midnight, or I’ll look too eager.”

Cruz hums, “Mmm.” Looks away. Unable to stare into Aaliyah’s beautiful eyes after she says the word eager. She knows what an eager Aaliyah is like. She’s experienced it. For hours. And she’ll never have that again.

There’s a brief pause. Then Aaliyah picks up her explanation, “Then I walk a long plank to a couch looking out so that everyone can admire me, but what they do is gossip, argue about my dress. Then Eshan and a few men, his father and brothers and my father and brothers, will visit us for a few songs. Ehsan and I will dance then the men go back to their party and we continue ours.”

“Your father’s coming to the wedding?” Cruz interjects. Heart racing–breaking–now that Aaliyah has uttered the words she didn’t want to hear. Cruz’s fate is sealed. The mission is on. She has to do her duty.

“I know.” Aaliyah murmurs. Sounding a bit surprised. “No, he’s here. He’s with the men, but you will meet him at breakfast. He’s very serious. You met my mother? She’s the loud one.”

It’s a joke. Another one made to disguise underlying hurt. Cruz can’t follow up on that. Can’t provide comfort or reassurance or any other words meant to show Aaliyah that she is valued and cared for. She can only focus on the mission. Ask relevant questions. Uncertain of whether she'll be asking these questions to help achieve her objective or give her a plausible excuse to fail. “I thought you said they’d kill him if he came.” She keeps her voice even. Uttering the words as a statement rather than a question.

But it doesn’t matter. Aaliyah responds. Giving her the type of information she desires, “That’s what mama tells me. But everywhere is a danger for him. It always has. My whole life.”

“Why?” Cruz asks. Curious. Needing to hear Aaliyah’s view of the man instead of the one given to her by the US government.

“I don’t know the oil business.” Aaliyah responds. Her tone seems honest. Genuine. But Cruz smells bullshit. Has done enough deflecting during her stint undercover to recognize when someone else is doing that with her.

She pushes back, “Yeah, I don’t either, but i know there’s plenty of people who do it and don’t get killed for it.”

“You think the president of Chevron or Exxon don’t have armed guards and bullet-proof cars? And that’s in America.” Aaliyah scoffs. “They say he is a terrorist. Funds armies. Does all these things.” She shakes her head. Seemingly disgusted that people could think these things about her father. “He sells oil to whoever will buy it. He doesn’t play the game: ‘Sanction this country. Don’t buy it from that one. Don’t sell to this one.’ And who cares? It will happen some day. They’ll get to him.”

Cruz’s stomach rocks. Bile rises in her throat. Knowing that she’s the ‘someone’ that Aaliyah is speaking about.

Aaliyah doesn’t pick up on this latest instance of Cruz’s disquiet. Continuing, “I think that’s why he chose Ehsan. Very smart investor. Very respected. And maybe our children, they don’t have to play with oil. They just play with money.”

There’s a long pause. Cruz’s eyes go to the sea. She hears Aaliyah sigh. Turns as she begins to speak, “Ehsan knows about us. He doesn’t know, but… he knows.”

Cruz grits her teeth. She has a decision to make now. About whether to comply with Ehsan’s demand to keep her mouth shut or whether to share that she and Ehsan had a charged conversation upon her arrival. She wants to disclose the interaction. Doesn’t want to tell yet another lie. But she also doesn’t want to create conflict in Aaliyah’s new marriage. Make it more difficult for her to adjust. She doesn’t get a chance to make the decision. Because Aaliyah continues speaking, “He confronted me about it yesterday. Yelled at me. Smacked me.”

Cruz stands up straight. Her eyes bulging out of her head. She clenches her fists. Spins around. Ready to stride back to the men’s side and beat the living shit out of Ehsan. She feels a hand on her arm. She turns. Stares down at Aaliyah. “Shhh… Calm. Don’t draw attention to yourself while we finish this chat.”

Cruz exhales. Turns back toward the gorgeous Mediterranean Sea view. Eyes scanning the horizon. Her team is on a boat out there. Somewhere. Preparing to extract her from a mission she’s suddenly certain she won’t be able to complete.

“Do you remember what I told you in the steam room?” Aaliyah starts. Pausing. Waiting for Cruz to look at her before finishing, “About staying after they slap you?”

Cruz nods. Too angry to talk.

“It’s time for me to go. I’m ready. Now. If you will come with me. If not…” She trails off. Her eyes move to the water. Her voice softens. “I don’t think I can manage to leave if I have I to go alone.”

Cruz scrutinizes Aaliyah’s profile. Her face is serious. Worried. She’s not messing around. Which means Cruz has another decision to make. Whether to stay and complete the mission. Leave Aaliyah behind to a life with a man who might escalate from slaps into more brutal horrors. Ones that Cruz is intimately familiar with. Or leave with Aaliyah. Blow the mission. End up in a situation where she’s hunted by both Aaliyah’s father and her own government. She swallows. Grips the railing. Asks, “How do you plan to escape? This place is fortified. Security is tight. We can’t just walk out of here.”

Aaliyah chuckles humorlessly. She creeps closer. Arm brushing into Cruz’s side. Like she needs a brief moment of contact. Then she’s answering, “I’ve been planning for a while now. Just in case. I have jewelry stashed. Some cash. Mostly American currency. A few Euros. I spent time around the kitchen this morning. Heard a man talking about his financial troubles. I offered him a pair of diamond earrings if he’ll drive us out tonight. A gold ring if he’ll arrange us transport on a boat.”

Cruz snorts. She hasn’t seen too many movies in her life, but what Aaliyah is describing sounds straight out of one. A bad one. A bad one where they end up trafficked or dead. She’s silent for a long while. Staring out at the grounds and the sea. Thinking. About what to do. She feels a nudge to her arm. Turns. Aaliyah is looking up at her. Expectantly, “Zara?”

She groans. Runs a hand through her hair. “You trust this man not to sell us out?”

Aaliyah’s nose scrunches. Her shoulders lift. “I told him he’d probably be killed for admitting he spoke to me.”

Cruz winces. Wondering how Aaliyah could be so defensive of her father while causally admitting that death would be a consequence of undermining his wishes. There’s no point in prodding that apparent disconnect. Not now. So Cruz focuses back on the man that Aaliyah has roped into this scheme, “And if he’s caught?”

Aaliyah clenches her jaw. Stares. Doesn’t answer.

“Right.” Cruz nods. “Right.”

“What choice do I have?” Aaliyah asks. Voice low. Pleading. “What choice do we have?”

It’s a good question. A very good question. Cruz doesn’t have an answer for it. Offering lamely, “I don’t know.”

She hears a laugh. Turns once again to gaze at Aaliyah. “Have you seen the movie Thelma & Louise?”

Cruz laughs. Blushes. Answers, “No.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Aaliyah chuckles. She slaps Cruz on the back. Groans. Mutters, “Sometimes I think I’m more American than you.”

Cruz snorts. Raises an eyebrow.

Aaliyah laughs again. “Ok. No. That’s not possible. But anyway. The movie. It’s about two women who escape their lives and men. But they can’t get free. Horrible men lurk wherever they turn. They kill a rapist. Rob a convenience store. It ends with them at the Grand Canyon. Holding hands. Choosing to drive off the cliff to their deaths and freedom rather than turn themselves in.”

Cruz’s eyes are wide. Her mind spinning. Wondering whether she’d cry at the end of that movie. Wanting to find out. With Aaliyah by her side.

Aaliyah smiles at her. Laughs. Lightly. Finishes her thought. “I think it would be better that way for us, no? Better to die trying to escape so that we can make our own choices instead of staying and suffering.”

It’s a good point. Though Cruz will do her best to make sure that they don’t die trying. Whether they’ll be able to build a life together will remain to be seen. She won’t be able to retain her Zara persona for long. But if she can get Aaliyah out safely–spare her from the type of pain she endured during her years with Edgar–, then whatever storm comes her way will have been worth it.

“Ok.” She nods. Hands squeezing the railing. Eyes on the sea. Searching for her team. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”

She turns her head after she asks her question. Watches as a smile spreads across Aaliyah’s face. Her eyes start shining. Her dress is sparkling in the sun. Cruz wants to lean forward. Kiss her. But she resists. Knowing there are eyes all around them.

Aaliyah winks at her. “Kissing me is part of the plan, but not until later, so save that thought.”

Cruz laughs. Blushes. Turns her gaze back toward the water. Still trying to spot her team. Wondering how they’ll react to what is about to happen.

“The plan is that we have dinner and socialize.” Aaliyah answers. Her left hand slides down the railing. Coming to a stop inches from Cruz’s right hand. “Then we retire for the night. The wedding preparations will proceed all night. People will be coming and going. I will knock on your door at 2 am. Then–”

“Security cameras?” Cruz interrupts. Pulling her hands free from the railing. Turning her entire body. Then leaning to rest against the railing.

“None.” Aaliyah’s gaze remains on the water. “I checked.”

“You’re certain?” Cruz asks. Knowing that their escape will end almost instantly if the halls are being watched.

“Yes.” Aaliyah nods. She drums her fingers on the railing. Sighs. Then turns to mirror Cruz’s position, “This is a bubble. Everything that comes in is checked, but once inside we are free from all of that.”

“Ok.” Cruz inhales. Her stomach rocks. Nervous. She’ll have to do her own sweep before retiring for the night.

Aaliyah squints at her. An unreadable expression on her face. Then she’s shaking her head. Pushing forward, “We will go down toward the kitchen. There’s a small hallway. A service entrance. The man I’ve hired will meet us there. We will climb into his trunk. He will drive us down to a dock where we will board a fishing vessel and travel to the mainland.”

“Fuck…” Cruz murmurs. She laughs. Blinks. Rapidly. “This is insane, you know that?”

“Maybe.” Aaliyah answers. Tone flat. Resigned. Her eyes go to the ground. Her nose scrunches. “But–”

“What choice do we have?” Cruz interrupts. “Yeah. I follow.”

“Good.” Aaliyah exhales. Plasters what is likely a fake smile onto her face. Gestures to her left. “Then let me show you to your room.”

They walk inside the villa. Up a flight of stairs. Down a hall. Cruz keeps her eyes up. Scanning the ceiling and walls for cameras. She doesn’t find any. Meaning that Aaliyah is telling the truth or that her father’s security team has this place wired with covert surveillance tech. She has no way to find out if it’s the latter. Other than going forward with the escape and seeing how far they get.

Aaliyah comes to a stop in front of a door. She pushes it open. Waves for Cruz to enter. Cruz steps inside. Hears Aaliyah following her. Then the door is shutting. She spins around. Reaches out. Aaliyah is on her in an instant. Their lips crush together. Frantically. Urgently. Hands begin sliding over each other’s bodies. She gets a firm grip of Aaliyah’s ass. Pulls her in close. Feels Aaliyah’s hand sliding underneath her jacket. Then around her front. Cupping her tits. She rips herself away. Steps back. “Sorry.” She gasps. Hands going behind her back to keep from them reaching out and pulling Aaliyah in for another kiss.

Aaliyah chuckles. Steps closer. Reaches up. Thumb wiping Cruz’s lips. She looks down. Notices that Aaliyah’s lipstick is half gone. Understands what Aaliyah is wiping away.

Aaliyah drops her hand from Cruz’s mouth. Sighs. “No need to apologize. It’s as much my fault as yours. We will have time for that later. But now you should clean up. Change. Pick out what you will bring with you tonight. We won’t have room for luggage. Just a small bag. So wear–”

“Clothes I can run in?” Cruz interrupts.

“Yes.” Aaliyah presses her lips together. Widens her eyes. Huffs. Like she’s imagining a worst case scenario. “I hope it won’t come to that, but in case it does...”

Cruz hums. Worst case scenarios now running through her mind. Gunfire. Jumping off cliffs.

Aaliyah takes a step toward the door. Then another one. Then she stops. Points at Cruz’s suitcase, “And nothing too flashy. We need to keep a low profile.”

“Alright.” Cruz laughs. A little impressed by how many angles of their escape Aaliyah has covered. “That I can manage.”

“Good.” Aaliyah takes another step backwards. “Then I’ll see you outside by the tables. Eat well. Drink only water. We’ll plan to make our first escape by midnight.”

Cruz nods. They hold a stare for a long, tense moment. Then Aaliyah is turning. Opening the door. Leaving. Cruz hurls herself onto the bed. Covers her face with a pillow. Screams as the reality of what she’s just agreed to hits home. She’s fucked. Completely fucked. Stuck in a vice grip with no way out. But her choice is made. Saving Aaliyah is more important than killing a man who she suspects isn’t as bad as Kaitlyn and Joe have made him out to be. He wasn’t the one planting the bombs in those horrible videos or firing the guns or swinging the machetes. He might have done business with the people carrying out those acts, but she knows the US government is just as guilty as funding people responsible for similar atrocities. Disobeying orders will probably get her court-martialed. But she’ll sleep easy. Knowing she made the correct call.

She pulls the pillow away from her face. Stands up. Finds her suitcase. Pulls out a dress. A pair of heels. She only brought two dresses. One for tomorrow and the day after that. The suit she traveled in was supposed to last her through the day. But now she won’t need the dresses, so she might as well wear one. Going with an emerald green dress. It’s relatively modest. Cut to mid calf. The neckline doesn’t plunge too low. But it has thin straps. Meaning her shoulders and upper back will be on display. Her clavicles too. Aaliyah likes those. Running her tongue over them for a few wonderful minutes in that lavish Pendry bed. Cruz sighs. Closes her eyes. Traveling back to that bed. The feel of Aaliyah's tongue. Her hands...

God...

She opens her eyes. Reconsiders her choice. Knowing that It’s probably a dangerous idea to wear this dress. But maybe she wants to give Aaliyah a reminder of that night they shared. Tease her. Give her something to look forward to. Something to help her maintain her resolve. Because leaving is difficult. Cruz thought about it constantly. Creating plans. Taking steps to put them in motion. But she always chickened out. Stayed. She can’t let that happen tonight. Because then her mission would shift. She’d have to do her duty. Kill Aaliyah’s father. Leave Aaliyah behind for good.

She takes a shower. Lingering under the spray. Wondering when she’ll next have the luxury. If she’ll even have the luxury. Because there’s a good chance she’ll eat a bullet soon. She pushes away those thoughts. Gets out of the shower. Blow dries her hair. Fixes her makeup. Steps into the dress. Plugs her phone into the charger. There’s a wifi network here. Monitored. She won’t risk using it. But the second she’s off the property, she’ll need a way to communicate. Call for help if necessary. Her beacons won’t work for this. Her team will be blind to the situation. They could extract her and leave Aaliyah behind. So she won’t use that method of contact. Not unless she’s backed into a corner. But she will reach out. Request assistance. Face discipline if it means Aaliyah can escape.

She steps into her heels. Checks her appearance one last time. She looks good. Her face is healing nicely. The scrapes and cuts barely visible under her heavy makeup. She’ll explain them away if someone does notice. Give her excuse about a car accident. She hopes they won’t. Is so sick of lying. But she’ll keep doing it as long as it’s necessary. Worry about living with the guilt later. Once she’s free of this mess. Safe. Hopefully with Aaliyah by her side.

She leaves her room. Walks back to where she first saw Aaliyah today. The party is in full swing when she arrives. There’s food everywhere. Roasted meats. Salads. Fruits. Desserts. Champagne is flowing. Waitresses are walking around with platters of hors d'oeuvres. She searches for Aaliyah. Spots her sitting at a table with her ‘friends.’ She’s smiling. Laughing. Posing for selfies. Acting like all is well in the world. Cruz needs to do the same. She unclenches her jaw. Walks to one of the food tables. Fixes herself a big plate of dinner. Then strolls slowly through the row of tables. Smile on her face. Making eye contact with the guests. Waiting for someone who’s had a little too much champagne to act friendly. She gets halfway to Aaliyah when an older woman returns her smile. Waves at her. Pats the seat next to her.

She sits down. Eats. Listening to the woman drunkenly ramble in a mix of Arabic and English. The night passes like this. Cruz socializing. Smiling. Answering questions with questions. Complimenting dresses and hairstyles and jewelry. Aaliyah appears every so often. Saying she needs to ‘check in on her American friend.’ They don’t spend any time alone. Don’t take any pictures together. Never get too close. Both seeming to understand that any physical contact between the two of them could raise suspicion. But there are heated looks. Subtle glances. She sees Aaliyah’s eyes on her clavicles a few times. Has to bite her cheeks to prevent herself from smirking.

The night finally, blissfully, comes to a close. Women start standing up. Yawning. Walking inside. Cruz steals a look at someone’s cell phone. It’s 12:21 am. Time for her to go. She stands. Yawns. Stretches. Mumbles something about the flight catching up to her. Waves to the women at the table. Walks inside and back to her room. Eyes making another careful sweep for cameras. She doesn’t spot any. Contemplates trying to find the kitchen to make sure that area is also free, but there are too many people around. She doesn’t want any of them to be able to say they saw her lurking by the service entry when the inquiry begins tomorrow. She hopes to God this man who is helping her knows how to cover his tracks. Doesn’t want to live with the guilt of his death. Her ledger already too heavy.

She enters her room. Changes. Putting on jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers. It’s the outfit she’d packed for the flight home if Aaliyah’s father hadn’t shown up and she’d been forced to watch the woman she loves marry a man and then grab a flight home. Commercial. The flight that Aaliyah had booked for her. Because her job wouldn’t be done. Not yet. So she’d have to maintain her cover. She laughs. Slumps down on the bed she won’t get a chance to sleep in. Because there would be no maintaining her cover. She would be out. Severed from Aaliyah by Ehsan.

She stands up. Begins pacing around the room. Checking the clock. Checking her bag. Checking her pockets. Making sure she has everything. She does. Every check revealing that she’s good to go. Her phone, passport, fake credit cards, and cash are in her bag along with a clean pair of underwear and socks and her toiletry kit. She shrugs on a lightweight jacket after her thousandth lap of the room. Remembering that they will be at sea for a long while. That it could get cold on the water if the wind picks up.

Time crawls by. She wears a hole in the floor. Then at 2:01 am she hears a knock. Runs to the door. Opens it. Aaliyah is there. Dressed causally. Sweatpants. A zip hoodie. Sneakers. Her hair is up. Her face scrubbed free of makeup. She looks so different. Younger. No less beautiful.

“Ready?” Aaliyah whispers.

Cruz nods. Exits the room. Shuts the door quietly. They walk downstairs. Single file. Footsteps as light as they can make them on the stone floor. The lights in the hall are dimmed. Casting shadows on the floor and walls. They come to the end of the hall. Cruz hears footsteps. Pulls Aaliyah back. They duck into an alcove. There’s a pedestal to her left. Empty. Lights on the floor pointing to it. Off. Meaning the statue that resides here has likely been placed in storage for the event. It ends up saving their asses. Giving them a completely dark place to hide as someone walks past them. A glass sculpture in their hand. A swan, maybe? It’s hard to tell.

Cruz tilts her head when the coast is clear. Steps out of their hiding spot. Lets Aaliyah take the lead. Following her around a corner. There's a door at the end of a long hall. The kitchen is to their left. They pass two double door entrances. Cruz glances inside. Sees a standard industrial setup. Lots of stainless steel and people dressed in white jackets. Someone is washing dishes near the first door. He doesn’t look up. Too focused on his task. The mound of dishes next to him. They get to the end of the hall. Open the door. Step outside into the dark night. There’s a man standing there. He’s middle age. Wearing a white chef jacket. He starts walking as soon as he sees them. Aaliyah follows, so Cruz does too.

They round a corner. Find a sedan parked by a row of trash cans. Cruz doesn’t recognize the logo on the front. Has never seen it in America. But the brand doesn’t matter. What’s important is the trunk. Whether they’ll fit inside and be able to breathe with the door closed. The man pops it open. Cruz gives it a quick inspection. It’s big and she sees air pockets that lead to the backseat. Which means they should be ok. She tilts her head toward Aaliyah. Signaling for her to get in first. She does. Turns until she’s resting on her side. Cruz climbs in next. Mirrors her position. There’s a blanket by their feet. The man grabs it. Covers them. Mutters, “Stay. I get you more cover.” He shuts the trunk. They lie there. In the dark. Breathing against each other. Cruz can hear Aaliyah’s heart racing. Too fast. She reaches out. Finds Aaliyah’s hand. Whispers. “We’ll be ok. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Aaliyah grips Cruz's hand tightly. Her breathing begins to slow. Her heart rate drops. Then she’s almost leaping out of the trunk when it opens. Cruz tugs her down. Feels something getting set on top of them. “Baskets. For fresh crabs.”

The trunk closes. Cruz hears footsteps. A door open. Close. Then the engine starts. They begin moving. Drive slowly for roughly 90 seconds. Stop. She hears a conversation. Can't make out all of the words from her position, but can hear enough to recognize that it's not Spanish. So Catalan or a dialect. Meaning a language she doesn't speak. Footsteps begin to circle the car. Distracting her from her frustration over not being able to understand what the men are saying. There’s a knock on the trunk. Aaliyah’s hand squeezes hers so tight she thinks her fingers might break. The footsteps continue around the car. Cruz hears two more knocks. More muffled speaking. Then the car is moving. Slowly at first. Then it speeds up. They begin descending. Aaliyah sliding forward until she’s banging into the seats. Cruz following her. They laugh. But for only a second. The levity fading as they hit a bump. The baskets bounce. Landing on top of them. Causing both of them to yelp.

Cruz wants to speak. Wants to ask how long the trip to the docks will take. They’re on an island. Docks are everywhere. So it’s not safe to assume they will drive to nearest one. A long trip could be in order. Which is fine for her. She’s been in worse situations. A night in a dangerous park all alone. A night in the mud. Mosquitos swarming around her. People hunting her. A training exercise. One she conquered. Long nights in Afghanistan. Surrounded by gun fire and explosions. But Aaliyah’s heart rate has spiked again. She’s not used to this. Cruz needs to calm her down. She pulls her hand free from Aaliyah’s grip. Ignores her whimper. Moving her arm around Aaliyah’s body. Tugging her close until Aaliyah’s head is resting against her chest. She doesn’t speak. Can’t find comforting words. Because telling Aaliyah how she’s gotten through worse situations unscathed isn’t an option. So she just holds her. Keeps her own breathing steady. Praying that it will be enough to calm Aaliyah down.

It works. A bit. Well enough that Aaliyah doesn’t have a full blown panic attack. Though she does jump again once the car comes to a stop. Cruz chuckles. Keeps her arm around Aaliyah. Ready to hold her down when the trunk opens. She’s certain they’ve reached their destination. Didn’t hear any signs of panicking from the front. Didn’t feel any either. No lane shifts or sudden stops or furious turns. They kept a steady pace. Cars passed them a few times. But she’s not relaxed. She can’t be. Not when the possibility remains that this man has sold them out. So she stays alert. Also ready to spring into action and fight if they resurface to a bad situation.

The trunk opens. The baskets lift. The man speaks, “We’re here. Nobody followed. I tried to park away from known cameras. Get out and walk to your right. Heads down. Stop when you reach the side of the building. I will grab the baskets and walk to my boat. You follow. But straight ahead. Along building and then the fence. Away from the lights. Then you turn right. Into the open. Walk quickly. Your boat is the Reina Del Mar. Your captain is Pau. He’ll call out to you. Board. Follow his instructions. Understand?”

“Yes.” Cruz answers. Firmly. She’s locked in now. Marine mode activated. Mind on the mission.

“Good.” The man pulls the blanket away just enough to reveal their heads. “And payment?”

There’s a pause. Cruz taps on Aaliyah’s back. She coughs. Answers, “Dropping it now. You’ll see it once we are out. ”

“Gràcies.” The man replies.

Then he’s pulling the blanket all the way off them. Cruz leaps out. Doing a quick survey of the area. She doesn’t see anyone. Turns. Helps Aaliyah out of the trunk. Then grabs her hand. Hurries her to the right. There’s a small stone building ahead. They reach the wall. Press themselves against it. Watch as the man shuts the trunk, grabs his baskets, and walks toward the dock. They follow. Walking along the edge of the building. Then the fence that lines the space between the building and the start of the docks. They pause when they reach the end. Watch as the man walks about 40 yards and then turns right. Cruz starts walking then. Pulling Aaliyah along with her. They’re only halfway to the point where the man turned when they hear a loud, “Pssst… Ferry service…” Cruz whips her head to her left. Spots a man crouching next to a boat. It’s medium sized. Looks to be about two levels. There’s fishing gear strewn around the front. People shaped shadows visible through the tinted windows of the upper level. She checks for the boat’s name. Spots Reina Del Mar in cursive letters on the side.

“Pau?” She asks.

“Sí.” He answers. Begins waving his hand. “Climb on. We leave right away. Fish are hungry while the moon is out and we must get to the mainland with a fresh haul for our customers by midday.”

She glances at Aaliyah. Sees her almost shaking in her sneakers. Spares half a second to consider what to do. Board a boat full of strange men and face possible horrors on the high seas or stay and risk capture while she can work out a more trustworthy escape. She opts to board. Pulling Aaliyah along with her. They enter the main cabin. Pau points to the stairs. “Go below deck. Make yourselves comfortable on the bunks. I'll be down to update you once we're underway.”

They climb down the stairs. There’s a closed door to their left. A closed door at the end of the hall. An open door to their right. Bunkbeds visible against the wall. They enter the room. Aaliyah dumps her purse on the ground. Climbs into the bottom bunk. Leans against the wall. Knees to her chest. Cruz drops her bag. Climbs in next to her. Reaches for Aaliyah’s right hand. Clasps it in her own. Realizes she does need to speak. Because Aaliyah has just taken the leap. One she’s imagined for God knows how many years. Cruz remembers how she felt when she finally reached her limit and left. Terrified. Alone. Wondering if she’d made the correct call.

Aaliyah’s escape is different though. Cruz had more control over what happened once she fled. She could stay on the move. Survey her surroundings. They don’t have that level of control here. They’ve placed their lives in the hands of strangers. Have to trust that the strangers will deliver them to safety.

She brings Aaliyah’s hand to her lips. Presses a kiss to her skin. Whispers, “First part is over. We’re gonna make it through. I’ll be with you every step of the way. And if someone tries anything, I will fight like hell to protect you. I promise.”

Aaliyah exhales. Stares deeply into Cruz’s eyes. Then she’s choking. Sobbing. Cruz gathers her into her arms. Presses kisses to her cheeks. Doesn’t try to talk again. She just sits and holds Aaliyah. Letting her cry and work through whatever she’s feeling as the boat begins to move.

Time passes. Half an hour maybe. Pau enters. Water bottles in his hand. A small cardboard box in the other. He holds the box out. “Sea sick meds. Unopened. Untampered with. Waters might get choppy.”

Cruz hums. Accepts the medicine and sets it on the cot. Pau holds up the waters. “Water. Also unopened. Not much food around. We don’t eat much as we work. You can scrounge around the mess.” He tilts his head toward the sink and cabinet at the end of the room. “More water there too. But maybe better to keep your stomach empty in case the medicine isn’t enough. I will be upstairs. We work like nothing is different. If we run into trouble, I will yell downstairs, ‘Police!’ You open those doors.” He points to a big wall length cabinet across from them. “Squeeze inside behind the gear. Bring all of your stuff. Pull the doors shut. Do not move or breath until I give the all clear. Understand?”

“Yes.” Cruz answers. Holding his gaze. Keeping her voice firm. Wanting to make it very clear to this man that she’s not to be bothered with.

“Perfect. It will be a long trip.” He points to the pills, “Take those if you are comfortable. Then try to sleep. I will let you know when we arrive.”

Pau turns. Begins to walk away. But Cruz has questions. Ones she'd like answered before he leaves. “Have you done this before?” She calls out.

He turns around. Shrugs. Grins. Takes a step backwards toward the door. Cruz calls out her second question, “Payment?”

He stares her down for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he answers, “You’re running from something, yes? Keep your money. You may need it.”

He leaves. Cruz leans back against the wall. Frowning. Mind running a mile a minute. Trying to figure out why a clearly seasoned smuggler would give them a free pass. She gives up after a minute. Sometimes good things happen without a reason. She should accept this gift. Because he’s right. They will need their money once they get to their destination. But she’ll remain vigilant. Just in case he’s not taking their money because he has a bigger payday lined up.

She reaches over. Picks up the box of medicine. It’s a generic brand. But she sees the key word, ‘Dimenhydrinate.’ She inspects the box for tampering. Finds no evidence of foul play. Opens it. Inspects the pill bottle. Determines its sound. Pops the safety cap. Fishes out a pill. Hands it to Aaliyah along with a water. “You’ll want this. Trust me.”

Aaliyah accepts the pill and water. Squinting. She opens the cap. Takes the pill. “You have experience on water?”

Cruz answers with a nod. Takes her own pill to give herself time to figure out how to answer the question without lying. Because all of her boating experience came during her deployments. Stints on aircraft carriers and smaller vessels. Not the yachts that she’s realizing Aaliyah probably frequented. She caps her water. Half lies, “I used to hang out with people who liked to go on the water.”

Aaliyah hums. She’s quiet for a moment. Then she’s nudging Cruz’s side. Asking, “What happened to them?”

“Life changed.” Cruz shrugs. Building on her half-lie. “We lost touch.”

“You met that horrible man?” Aaliyah guesses.

Cruz grunts. Uncaps her water. Stares at the cabinet across the room as she takes a giant sip. Trying to figure out how to backpedal out of this conversation. Realizing she has no chance of maintaining this Zara ruse for an extended period. The lies are too much. Too difficult. To give and to remember. She’ll do her best to keep the ruse going though. At least for the duration of this boat trip and for as long as it takes to get Aaliyah situated in a new life. Then she’ll have to let Zara go. And Aaliyah with her.

She feels a hand on her arm. Turns. Aaliyah is smiling softly at her. “It’s ok. We don’t need to speak about him or the past. We’re free now. Together. We should focus on that.”

They’re good words. They make Cruz smile. But they also twist the knife that’s stuck in her gut. Because they’re words meant for Zara. And she’s feeling the difference between her two selves more now as she sits in this cot. She’s less shy, wallflower college student. More alert and ready Marine. She prays that when Aaliyah learns the truth she’ll be able to see through the lies. Understand that it’s Cruz who has loved her all along. She reacts as Cruz now. Smiling. Cockily. Smugly. Running a finger up Aaliyah’s arm. Lifting an eyebrow. It’s a teasing look. Flirty.

Aaliyah laughs. Leans up. Presses a kiss to her lips. Cruz sinks into it. Chases Aaliyah’s lips when she pulls away. Buries her face against Aaliyah’s neck and whines when Aaliyah avoids her pursuit.

“We’re on a boat with strange men who might not be accepting of us. We should be careful.” Aaliyah whispers.

It’s a good point. But Cruz still pouts as she pulls away. Leans back against the wall. She hears Aaliyah yawn next to her. Remembers that it’s the middle of the night. That rest is necessary. She stands up. Points to the pillow. “You should sleep. I’ll stay awake. Keep guard.”

“Are you sure?” Aaliyah asks. Scooting forward. Hands reaching out. Coming to rest on the sides of Cruz’s thighs.

“Yeah.” Cruz answers. Stepping away from Aaliyah’s touch. She reaches down to grab her bag. Pulls out her cell phone.

Aaliyah watches her curiously. Then she lies down. Head resting on the pillow. She frowns. Wiggles. Like she’s uncomfortable. Then she pats the mattress. “Join me?”

Cruz lifts an eyebrow, “Aren’t we suppose to be keeping a low profile?”

“Yes.” Aaliyah answers. Chuckling. Sitting up. Holding a hand out to Cruz. “But kissing is one thing. Cuddling is different. Please? In case we get caught. I want as much time with you as I can get.”

Cruz sucks in a big breath. Blows it out slowly. It’s another good point. So she lets Aaliyah take her hand. Let's Aaliyah tug her close. Then she sits down. Frees her hand. Turns. Putting her feet onto the mattress. Aaliyah slides over. But there isn’t enough room. She ends up sandwiched against the wall. They laugh. Begin moving about. Uncoordinated. Eventually settle with Cruz resting on the pillow and Aaliyah's head resting on Cruz's chest. Right leg and arm slung over Cruz's body. It’s cozy. Possibly too cozy. But Cruz is in a fighting mood today. Would like to see Pau or one of his crew say something to them about how they're cuddled together. She’d have them overboard in a second.

She gets a grip on her sudden burst of anger. Knowing that Aaliyah can sense it. Not wanting to field questions about the source of her mood. But she doesn’t have to. Aaliyah drifts to sleep after a few minutes. Cruz watches her for a while. Smiling like an idiot. Then she remembers she needs to check her phone. She hits the side button. It’s 4:28 am. She unlocks it. Opens her messages. Has none. She taps on her chat with ‘Daddy.’ Spots the last messages she and Joe exchanged. Ones when she was running away from the Pendry hotel room bed. Heart breaking.

She feels tears forming. Remembering the difficulty of that night. The passion she shared with Aaliyah. The intensity of it. The love. She’d almost confessed her feelings a few times. Had to hold them back. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she whispered those words and then proceeded to kill Aaliyah’s father. She’s free to tell her now. But still won’t. Can’t do it as Zara. Has to do it as Cruz.

She hovers her fingers over her phone keyboard. Thinking about whether to send an S.O.S. message. Thinking about what Joe’s silence means. Because they have to know she’s gone. They promised to be alert and ready at all times in case she needed an extraction. They would have gotten a ping as soon as her phone had reception. Been able to keep track of her. So maybe she is in danger and they’re dealing with it. Or maybe they think she’s in danger and don’t want to text in case it would put her further at risk.

She locks her phone. Drops her arm. Pulls Aaliyah tight into her chest. Stares at the far end of the room. The sink. The cabinet. She’s getting hungry and she has to pee. But she suppresses those needs. It’s easy. Something she learned how to do in training. She chuckles. Thinking about how all of her training couldn’t prepare her for this. Falling in love with the daughter of the man she was sent to kill.

Aaliyah shifts in her arms. Mumbles something. Her eyelids flutter. But she stays asleep. Cruz smiles. Keeps her gaze on Aaliyah’s beautiful face. Time passes. The boat rocks. She can hear footsteps above. Excited shouts. Laughter. Then there are footsteps on the stairs. She turns her head. Gets a glimpse of the door right in time to see blond curly hair go by.

Kyle?

She blinks. Contemplates climbing out of bed to chase down the man who passed. Immediately thinks better of it. She hasn’t slept since her brief nap in Virginia. Joe wouldn’t let her sleep on the plane. Nudging her in the side whenever she started dozing during that horrific terror clip video. Didn’t sleep on the plane from Barcelona to Mallorca either. Too nervous about the mission and seeing Aaliyah again. Too heartbroken about what was about to happen. So she’s seeing things. Imagining that the man sent to trail her has stowed away on board. Because having him here would make this situation better. Safer. But he can’t be here. He’d have no way of knowing they’d be boarding this ship. Which means her fatigue is catching up to her. Making her delusional. She can’t have that. Not when she’ll need to be alert and ready once they reach land. So it’s time to wake Aaliyah up. Steal a few moments of rest.

She checks her phone for the time. 6:49 am. Taps lightly on Aaliyah’s back. Whispers, “Hey. Wake up.”

Aaliyah’s nose scrunches. Her eyelids flutter. She lets out a whimper. Then a whine. It’s adorable. Cruz can’t help herself. Leaning down to press a kiss to Aaliyah’s forehead. That wakes her up the rest of the way. She sits up. Narrowly avoids hitting her head on the top of the bunk. Wipes her eyes, “Are we there?”

“No.” Cruz answers. “It’s almost 7. We probably have a while yet.”

“Oh.” Aaliyah murmurs. Face falling.

Cruz reaches up. Cups her cheek. “I need to sleep. Can you stay awake? Just for an hour? That’s all I need.”

Aaliyah nods. Taps at Cruz’s shoulder. “We should switch positions. I’ll fall back asleep if I’m cuddled up to you like that.”

“Ok.” Cruz replies. Happy with the suggestion. Because there are few better resting spots than Aaliyah’s tits. Aaliyah seems to sense what she’s thinking. Giving her a knowing smirk and an eyebrow wiggle.

Cruz blushes. Playfully shoves Aaliyah’s side. They start moving. Shifting. Trying to flip spots. Cruz bumps her head on the top bunk. Yelps. They laugh. But getting out of bed isn’t an option. Because that wouldn’t be as fun and it would require severing body contact. Which neither of them seem inclined to do.

They get situated. Cruz’s head resting against Aaliyah’s chest. Her right leg and arm thrown over Aaliyah’s body. She presses a kiss to her chest. Looks up. Ask a question she should have asked hours ago, “What time will they figure out you’re missing?”

Aaliyah’s hand reaches down. Begins stroking through Cruz’s hair. “I’m not sure. I have a hair appointment at 9. Someone will probably get sent to look for me when I don’t arrive.”

Cruz hums. Presses another kiss to Aaliyah’s chest. Wishing Aaliyah had stripped off her hoodie. She looks up, “Would anyone have checked your room earlier? Ehsan?”

“No.” Aaliyah whispers. “No. Everyone should be asleep and stay asleep after all the food and drink last night.” She pauses for a second. Face hardening. Resolve? Anger? Then she’s tugging on a strand of Cruz’s hair. Adding, “Ehsan won’t bother me.”

Cruz considers Aaliyah’s response. Ehsan was angry when she last saw him. Raging at her about how she speaks to men. She trusts that Aaliyah thinks Ehsan wouldn’t bother her, but she doesn’t trust Ehsan. So she presses Aaliyah on the topic, “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Aaliyah replies. Voice firm. Uncompromising. “I made it clear to him that we would not speak or see each other until our wedding vows. That if he tried to steal my last minutes with you, then it would not go well for him on our wedding night.”

Cruz snorts. Feels a bout of laughter coming on. She tries to suppress it. Fails. Tipping her head down. Cackling humorlessly against Aaliyah’s chest.

Aaliyah permits it for a moment. Then she’s patting Cruz on the back. Whispering, “Explain.”

Cruz lifts her head up. Lets out a long sigh. Comes clean, “I spoke with Ehsan when I first arrived.”

“You spoke with…” Aaliyah doesn't finish the thought. Brows knitting. Hand falling from Cruz’s hair.

It’s a worrisome reaction. Given their agreement not to tell each other lies. Because if this small omission is enough to have Aaliyah uncomfortable, then there’s no way she’ll react well to learning Cruz’s true identity and about her aborted mission. But Cruz can’t worry about that quite yet. All she can do is give Aaliyah a full explanation. She lifts herself up so she’s hovering over Aaliyah. Whispers, “Asif led me to Ehsan instead of you. Ehsan sat me down. Interrogated me about all the crying we did in New York. I lied. He saw through it. Backhanded me. A–”

She’s cut off by a gasp. Then Aaliyah’s hand is on her cheek. Her jaw is clenched. Fury visible behind her eyes.

Cruz chuckles. Tries to shrug the slap off with a bad joke, “It was nothing. He hits like a girl.”

“Says the girl who used to fight?” Aaliyah fires back.

Aaliyah has her there, so she doesn’t bother trying to respond. They hold each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment. Aaliyah's thumb stroking Cruz's jaw. Then Cruz gets her mind working. Finishes her explanation, “Anyway, he said that after the marriage I’d be out of your life. Threatened me. I stood up to him. He didn’t like that. Yelled at me as I left.”

Aaliyah’s fury seems to grow. She drops her hand from Cruz’s face. Her jaw is clenched so tight that Cruz can see the muscles in her face tensing. Cruz stays silent. Letting Aaliyah process what Cruz has told her. She relaxes after a minute. Hand reaching up. Tugging on a strand of Cruz’s hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I almost did. Wh–” A wave hits the boat. Rocking them in their bunk. Causing Cruz to lose her balance and face plant against Aaliyah's breasts. She starts laughing. Hears Aaliyah doing the same. Then she’s looking up. Finishing, “When you told me that he knew about us. But then you said he hit you and it just wasn’t important at the moment. Getting you away from him was all that mattered. Then I forgot about it.”

An intense look flashes across Aaliyah’s face. It’s not anger though. Passion, maybe? She brings her right hand to Cruz’s chin. Tugs her up. Kisses her. Hard.

Cruz returns the kiss. Forces herself to pull away after a few seconds. Mindful of their location. She settles back down against Aaliyah’s chest. Closes her eyes. Feels Aaliyah’s hand stroking through her hair. Hears her voice, “Thank you for being honest with me.”

Cruz hums. Dies a little bit inside as she falls asleep.

“Zara… Zara…”

Cruz stirs. Snuggles into her pillow. It’s soft, but not pillow soft. She blinks. Opens her eyes. Realizes where she is. Her face resting against Aaliyah’s tits. She grins. Nuzzles into them again. Hears a laugh. Feels Aaliyah’s hand rubbing over her back. “None of that. It’s time to wake up. Keep me company.”

Cruz groans. Pushes up. Mind kicking in at the last second to spare her from hitting her head on the top bunk. She spins around. Leans back against the wall. Bladder aching. Stomach rumbling. Rubs her face. Decides to she needs to climb out of bed and find the lavatory. She stands up. Hooks her thumb behind her shoulder, “I gotta uhh…”

“Yeah. Me too.” Aaliyah whispers. Shyly.

Cruz chuckles. Backs away, “I’ll go check it out first. Make sure it’s safe.”

“Ok.” Aaliyah murmurs. Rolling onto her side. Closing her eyes. Like she’s going to steal another two minutes of sleep.

Cruz spins around. Exits the tiny room. Pauses in the hallway. To her left are the stairs to main deck. She can hear the men up there. Shouting out directions as they work. Sunlight is streaming through the outside door. Lighting up the top half of the steps. The boat is rocking, but not by much. Meaning it’s probably a beautiful day with calm seas. She’s tempted to walk up the stairs. Get her bearings. But they were told to stay down here, so she’ll heed the command. Lest she disrespect the kindness of their captain. She turns right. Knocks on the closed door. Doesn’t get an answer. She opens it. Flips on the light. Finds a relatively clean toilet and sink. She relieves her bladder. Washes her hands. Returns to the room with the bunks.

Aaliyah is where she left her. Dozing on the cot. Snoring softly. Cruz grins. Places a hand on her arm. “Toilet is safe.” Aaliyah hums. Blinks her eyes open. Cruz pulls her hand away. Watches as Aaliyah climbs out of bed. Exits the room. She walks to the mess. Opens the cupboards. Finds one stuffed with small chip bags. Lisa. Sabor Serrano. Lemon and Pimenta. Chili & Lima. She brings one of each kind to the bed. Grabs her phone off the mattress. Checks the time. 9:50 am. Checks her messages. Nothing from ‘Daddy.’ She sighs. Flops down on the bed. Figures they have at least two more hours on board. Aaliyah’s absence is likely known by now. So the question now is how fast her father’s security team can mobilize to search for her. They have head start on any retrieval mission sent by sea. But helicopters could likely close the distance in a short time.

Aaliyah returns. Climbs into bed. Leans against the wall. Cruz holds out the chip selection. Studying Aaliyah as Aaliyah studies the chips. She looks pale. Frightened. Cruz doesn’t want to bring up their situation, but she needs answers to her questions so she can prepare for what awaits.

Aaliyah makes her choice. Going with the lemon pepper chips. Cruz opens the Lisa. Shoves a few of the plain potato chips into her mouth. Hears Aaliyah crunching away next to her. She lets Aaliyah get a few more chips down. Then she puts her hand on Aaliyah’s knee. Asks another question she should have asked hours ago, “What resources does your father have at his disposal to track you down? Helicopters? Ships?”

Aaliyah sets her bag of chips down. Lets her head flop back against the wall. Her eyes close. She sighs. Voice small as she answers, “Both. At least one helicopter was at the villa. He’ll be able to call in favors. Send people out from Mallorca and the mainland.”

Cruz inhales. Slowly. Letting the information sink in. Having search parties mobilized from close to where they’re going will make this more difficult. They could disembark to a team waiting to take them into custody. Granted that team could be her own team. She brings her hands to head. Rubs her temples. She has a throbbing headache. Stress. Fatigue. Lack of water. She searches for the water bottle Pau had given her. Finds it at the end of the bed. She drinks half of it. Leans back against the wall. Closes her eyes. Begins thinking. Preparing. Imagining every possible scenario she could face. People boarding the ship to take her and Aaliyah into custody. People ambushing them upon arrival. Aaliyah’s father cutting his losses. Sinking their ship. Her own team cutting their losses. Taking them out. She doesn’t think the latter two scenarios are likely, but she contemplates them anyway. Needing to prepare for everything.

She hears crunching as she thinks. Aaliyah finishing their measly breakfast. Then she feels Aaliyah’s hand on her leg. Squeezing. Her voice comes moments later. Stronger now. More assured. “We’re going to be ok. I know it. I’m scared. But we’re together. And I have to believe that we’ll make it. I have to.”

Cruz opens her eyes. Turns to meet Aaliyah’s gaze. She smiles. Leans forward. Presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’re right. We will be ok. I’ll make sure of it.”

It’s a lie. Another one. Their safety something she cannot guarantee. But an easy lie to make. Because she needs Aaliyah to stay strong and keep calm. Having her panic her way through the rest of their journey will make Cruz’s efforts to secure their safety that much more difficult.

She turns away. Scarfs down the rest of her chips. Pulls Aaliyah into her side. Links her left hand with Aaliyah’s right. Closes her eyes. Resumes thinking. About Spain’s geography, transportation system, police force, military presence. There are so many factors to consider. Getting off the ship is the first step. Then they need to get out of the public eye. Regroup. Assess their financial situation. Plot a course. Staying in Spain forever isn’t an option. Cruz has her fake passport. It should be sufficient to get her across the Spanish border. Aaliyah’s will pose a problem. She opens her eyes. Squeezes Aaliyah’s hand. “Did you bring your passport or an ID?”

“Yes.” Aaliyah replies. Then she’s frowning. “Should I not have?”

Cruz chuckles. Shakes her head. “No. Traveling without identification is suspicious, so it’s better that you did. But using it will draw attention to you. So we might be stuck in Spain until we can figure out how get you a fake one.”

Aaliyah’s frown deepens. She tilts her head. Scrutinizing Cruz carefully. Cruz stays silent. Letting Aaliyah work through whatever she’s thinking. Heart racing. Because she’s speaking as Cruz now. Not Zara. And Aaliyah has to be getting suspicious.

Aaliyah’s face relaxes after a moment. She turns away. Head leaning back against the wall. “The man said the boat would be going to Canet d'en Berenguer. It’s a small town north of Valencia. I hope that my father underestimates me. Assumes that I’d try to go to Barcelona or Valencia and hop a flight to New York. He knows I love it there. He knows that I’ve made a good friend–you–in the states.”

Cruz swallows. Heart pounding again. Remembering how close she’d come to killing Aaliyah’s father. Aaliyah doesn’t notice her mood change. Pushing forward, “So I think we stay in Spain for a bit. Move away from the coast. Find somewhere small and rural where people will not notice us. Then we figure out how to get back to America.”

Cruz smiles. Leans over. Kisses Aaliyah’s cheek. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

They fall silent again. The ship rocks. They hear footsteps and shouts. Helicopter blades churning through the air. Aaliyah goes rigid against Cruz’s side. She pulls her hand free. Gets her arm around Aaliyah’s back. Pulls her in close. Whispers, “We’re close to land now. We’ll probably hear more of that. Only worry if they linger. That means someone is circling us.”

The helicopter gets louder. Then it begins to fade. The noise is gone a minute later.

Aaliyah pulls away. Leans back against the wall. Exhales, “Woooooo!”

Cruz laughs. Knowing what Aaliyah is likely feeling now. That strange sensation where terror turns into relief. When your heart is pounding and adrenaline is rushing and every muscle in your body is tensed. And then you realize it’s not necessary. And your mind relaxes, but your body doesn’t. All you can do is sit there and wait for your nervous system to calm down. Sometimes it can take a while. But maybe Cruz can help speed that up. She finds Aaliyah’s right hand. Links their fingers together. Begins brushing her thumb over Aaliyah’s knuckles. Soothing strokes. She closes her eyes. Resumes planning.

Time passes. The ship rocks. The men work and shout. Then someone is stomping down the stairs. Cruz opens her eyes in time to see Pau walking into the room. He jumps right into business, “We dock in about 20 minutes. One of my crew will do a quick sweep. If he says it’s ok, then I'll come down to get you. Town is directly ahead.”

He walks to a small chest to the right of the bunks. Opens it. Gestures inside, “Hats. Bags. Put on the hats. Put all your stuff in a new bag. Leave your old ones behind. We throw them away. Change clothes as soon as you can. Cameras are everywhere. Ok?”

“Yes.” Cruz and Aaliyah answer at the same time.

Pau nods. “I will go back up. See you soon.”

He leaves. They get out of bed. Go to the chest. Pull out big straw sun hats. They’re ridiculous. But proper attire for the beach. The tote bags too. Simple. Canvas. Cruz empties her bag into one. Watches as Aaliyah does the same. She’s frowning though. Cruz chuckles, “What’s with your face?”

Aaliyah lifts up her purse. “It’s Prada. Lightly used. I was planning to sell it when money got low.”

Cruz stares at the bag. Thinking. Because money is a finite resource. If they successfully evade both Aaliyah’s security and her team, then they will need every penny they can get. She gestures toward the purse, “It’s small. Throw it in the tote bag. Just make sure it stays in there as we walk through town.”

Aaliyah seems pleased with that response. Repacking her purse. Shoving it into the tote bag. She hops back onto the cot. Cruz stays standing. Strips off her jacket. Begins to stretch. Her arms. Her legs. Her back and shoulders. Then she gets down on the floor. Knocks out a hundred push ups. Rolls over. Knocks out 100 crunches. She leaps to her feet. Jogs in place. Catches sight of Aaliyah staring at her. Lip between her teeth. Eyes wide. Pupils dark.

Cruz smirks. “You like that?”

“Uh-huh.” Aaliyah answers. Voice almost a whine.

Cruz drops back down. Starts doing more pushups. Needing to get herself loose and warm in case they’re met with a fight. The odds likely won’t be in their favor, but she’ll give it her best shot. Take out as many hired security guards as she can before one of them puts a bullet in her head. She stops. Arms extended. Abs engaged. Letting that most recent thought sink into her head instead of pushing it away like she had last night. She’s had similar thoughts before. They’re hard to avoid on the battlefield. Every door opened or step taken could be her last. It never bothered her then. Because she didn’t have a life. Nobody waiting on her. Nobody who would care if she didn’t come home. She has that now, though. Aaliyah would be crushed by her death. Well, Zara’s death. But the point remains. Someone would care and that makes thinking about the end actually scary.

She drops down. Pushes back up. Holds steady again. Abs and arms burning as she maintains the position. She’s aware of Aaliyah’s hungry gaze. Tunes it out. Focusing. Preparing. Embracing her inner Marine.

She’s covered in sweat by the time she hears footsteps stomping down the stairs. She leaps to her feet as Pau enters. “Coast is clear. Time to go.”

Cruz grabs her jacket. Shoves it into her tote bag. Places her straw hat on her head. Picks up her phone from the cot. Checks the time. 12:17 pm. Dumps it into her bag. Pulls out her sunglasses. Hangs them from the neck of her shirt. Pau turns toward the exit. Gestures for them to follow. Aaliyah tries to go through the door first. Cruz grabs her. “Let me lead.”

Aaliyah squints. Then nods. Steps back so Cruz can go first. She hurries up the stairs. Out into the blinding light. She gets her sunglasses on her face. Then begins scanning their surroundings. A large dock. Boats everywhere. A few people too. Buildings ahead. She turns around. Finds Aaliyah’s hand. Takes it. Catches another glimpse of blond hair as she spins back toward the dock. She does a double take. Sees nothing. Just an empty dock. An empty boat next to it. She grits her teeth. Steadies herself. Begins walking off the boat.

It’s a straight shot to shore. They pass about twelve boats on each side of the dock. Reach a parking lot. There’s a restaurant ahead. It looks attached to a hotel. Cruz leads Aaliyah past it. Getting a room this close to where they got off the boat is a bad idea. They walk another block inland. Passing apartments. Offices. The people on the street look like residents, not tourists. Which means they probably stick out. That’s not good. What’s worse is that she has no idea where to go. She can’t look it up. Still weary about using her phone. So she picks a direction. Turning them right. They walk another two blocks. The air between them tense. Nervous. Then they see signs of life. Bars and restaurants. A sign for holiday apartment rentals. Cruz makes a beeline toward it. Murmuring as they walk, “Come inside with me. Keep your distance. Keep your head down and turned away from any cameras. If they ask for ID, I will use mine. We pay in cash. I should have enough for the night.”

She hears a sharp inhale. Something that sounds like an ‘Ok.’ But the words are drowned out by the street traffic and the sound of her own heart beating so loudly it’s vibrating in her ears. They go through a gate. Walk past a dirty pool and an unkempt lawn. Then enter an office building. There’s a man sitting behind a counter. Cruz walks straight toward him. Smiling. Greeting him in Spanish, “Hola. Una habitación para pasar la noche.” She sets a stack of bills on the counter. Lifts an eyebrow. Sensing that this might be the type of place where extra money will buy you discretion.

He smiles at her. Starts typing on his computer. She looks over her shoulder. Stealing a quick glance at Aaliyah. She’s in the corner. Poking at travel brochures. Head down. Though Cruz doesn’t see any cameras. Just old furniture and a heavy layer of dust. She spins back around when the man speaks. “Habitación 118. Sal por la puerta trasera y ve a la izquierda. La salida es a las 10 a.m.”

Her stack of Euros is gone. Replaced by a key. She’s certain she just paid double the rate, but their safety is worth it. She murmurs a ‘gracias.’ Spins around. Coughs. Tilts her head once Aaliyah looks up. They go out the back door. Turn left. Find room 118. She opens the door. Enters first. Does a quick sweep of the premises. It’s a one bedroom apartment. There’s a sitting room. A small kitchen. A bathroom with a tub. A small bedroom with a queen sized bed. It’s a significant downgrade from the last hotel they stayed in, but it will do. For now. She drops her tote bag on the kitchen table. Closes all of the shades after checking for places where a sniper could set up. The kitchen window is the biggest problem. But she resolves not to worry about it. Anyone coming after them will likely just kick down the door or wait to ambush them when they leave. She walks back to the kitchen table. Pulls her phone out of her bag. 1:31 pm. No texts from ‘Daddy.’

“What now?” Aaliyah asks.

Cruz glances up. Finds Aaliyah leaning against the wall by the bedroom door. Hat off. Hoodie unzipped. She takes a moment to think. Then answers, “Now I go out for supplies. You stay here. Away from windows. Keep the door locked.”

Aaliyah’s eyes widen. She starts to protest. “I shou–”

Cruz lifts her hand. Signaling for Aaliyah to stop. She does. Then Cruz closes the distance between them. Grabs Aaliyah’s hand. Looks right into her eyes as she explains, “Hey. This is unavoidable. We are being hunted right now. Both of us. They’ll be looking for two women traveling together. It’s safer for only one of us to go out. I know how to keep a low profile. I’ll–”

“How do you know?” Aaliyah interrupts.

Cruz doesn’t have a good answer. She can’t tell the truth, but she’s also sick of lying. So she deflects, “I just do.”

Aaliyah frowns. Pulls her hand free. Tilts her head, “Because of the man?”

Cruz narrows her eyes. Considers running with Aaliyah’s suggestion again. But she can’t do it. Choosing to continue deflecting, “Something like that.”

Aaliyah sighs. She seems frustrated. Maybe a little angry. But they don’t have time for this conversation, so Cruz gets them back to their mission. “I’ll get us food and water and new clothes if I can do it quickly. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Ok. Ok.” Aaliyah nods. “Be safe.”

“I will.” Cruz answers. Leaning forward. Stealing a quick kiss. She turns. Gathers her phone and some money. Rushes out the door. Returns to the lobby to get a city map off the counter. She stays inside to examine it. Locates a supermarket a few blocks northeast. She folds the map. Shoves it into her back pocket. Leaves. Keeping a leisurely pace as she walks even though her instinct is to sprint. She can’t do that. Needs to act like she belongs here. So she strolls through the sunny streets like she doesn’t have a care in the world. But her eyes are up. Focused. Scanning constantly for danger.

She arrives at the grocery store. Grabs a basket. Starts filling it. A fresh loaf of bread. Sliced meat and cheese. She’s eyeing their cereal selection when she hears a throat clear. She turns to her left. Kyle is standing there.

“What the–” She starts. Voice loud. Surprised.

“Shhh!” Kyle interrupts, “Don’t look at me and don’t talk to me. Keep making your selection. You passed a cafe on your way here. Red door. Tables outside. Pay. Go there. Take a seat outside. Wait. We can talk there.”

He starts to step away. She disregards his order to stay silent, “Am in I trouble?”

She hears a laugh. Promptly disregards his order to not look at him. He doesn’t admonish her. But he does put her mind somewhat at ease, “You’re safe. Pay. Meet me. We’ll talk there so you can get back to your girl.”

She doesn’t answer him. Turns back to the cereal shelf. Grabs a box that reads Chocolate Avellena Avelã. Hears footsteps. Kyle departing. She detours to grab milk and a big jug of water. Then she heads to the register. Pays. Leaves. Finds the cafe with the red door and the tables. Takes a seat outside.

Kyle arrives a few minutes later. Exiting from inside the cafe. A coffee cup in his hand. He sits down at the table behind her. Choosing the chair that is back to back with hers. He gets right down to it, “Here’s the deal. This mission went sideways nearly from the moment we sent you inside. Orders came out from above to scrap it. Apparently this guy is more helpful alive than dead. So in a way it’s good that you escaped in the middle of the night.”

Cruz barely suppresses a snort at this revelation. But she knows Kyle is serving her a shit sandwich here, so it’s time to hear the bad news. “But…,” she prods.

Kyle delivers the shit part of the sandwich, “You ran away with the daughter of a pretty damn important guy and he’s not happy and if word comes out that you’re a Marine, this could get spun as a US government sanctioned kidnapping and that won’t play well.”

She grimaces. Tries to defend herself, “That’s not what happened.”

“I know. I know.” Kyle replies. Voice sounding genuine, “We have people all over the Mediterranean. One of my contacts reached out yesterday. Said he’d been approached by someone seeking passage for two young women who needed to escape before one got stuck marrying an abusive man. We put two and two together. Mobilized. Ready to provide support if you were able to escape.”

Cruz can’t suppress her snort this time. She lets it fly. Then pounds the table. Frustrated. “Would have been nice to have a heads up on the boat.”

“Yeah.” Kyle laughs. “Probably. But Joe said to keep you in the dark. Something about maintaining your cover, but it might just be her way of seeing how good your skills are.”

Cruz huffs. Frustration turning to anger. She quickly puts a lid on that emotion. Knowing it won’t serve her well. Asks, “So what now?”

“Now you lay low while we figure this mess out.” Kyle replies. “We’re around and watching. We’ll reach out if you need to move tonight and come running if you need saving. Tomorrow you move. Location is tbd. If you haven’t heard otherwise, meet me back here tomorrow morning. 0800.”

“And after that?” Cruz asks.

“After that…” Kyle pauses. Cruz hears creaking. Metal scraping on the pavement. “After that, we get you stateside. You’ll have to come in. Talk to people. Answer questions. You might be done or you might get promoted. Hard to say. I’ve fucked up worse and I’m still here.”

He sounds proud of his ability to fail upwards. Cruz would call him out for it, but she needs more information. “And Aaliyah?”

“I don’t know.” Kyle sighs. “That’s what everyone is trying to figure out.”

It’s not what Cruz wants to hears. She swallows. Voice breaking, “She can’t go back. She can’t. They’ll kill her.”

“I know. Kaitlyn knows. Joe knows.” Kyle starts. Voice sounding defensive. Agitated. “I don’t think anyone wants that. But she’s probably going to have to come in. Talk to people. Offer information. Work out an off the books asylum deal. You know what that means?”

Cruz’s heart stops. She shuts her eyes. Doesn’t answer.

“You’ll have a few days at least.” Kyle offers. “It’s up to you on how to do it.”

Cruz knows she has to speak now. The best she can manage is a meek, “Ok.”

She feels a hand on her arm. A comforting touch. Doesn’t turn around. But Kyle’s voice is reassuring when he speaks again, “For what it’s worth, it sounded like you and her have something real. I don’t know if that’ll be enough, but it might be.”

“Yeah…” Cruz sighs. She feels sick. Exhaustion. Hunger. Dehydration. Heartbreak.

Kyle’s hand drops. He laughs. His chair scrapes against the pavement. “That’s enough chatter. Get out of here. And text ‘Daddy’ if you need her.”

Cruz stands. Lets out a noise that is half groan and half laugh. Hating that they chose ‘Daddy’ instead of ‘Dad’ as the name for her line to Joe. Though she supposes it’s better than ‘Mommy.’

She grabs her bag of food and jug of water. Leaves the cafe without another word. She speed walks back to their room. No longer worried about blending in. Uses the key to open the door. Steps through the threshold. There’s a flash of movement to her right. Aaliyah leaping up from the couch. “You’re back.” She shrieks. Sounding excited and relieved.

“I am.” Cruz murmurs. Heading toward the kitchen. She drops their groceries on the counter. Rips her sun hat off. Begins unloading her purchases. Hears Aaliyah creeping up behind her. Then she’s getting pulled into a hug from behind. She closes her eyes. Savors the embrace. Wondering how many more moments like these she’ll be able to have.

“Hungry?” She asks.

“Mmmm…” Aaliyah hums against her back. Then she’s stepping away, “Starving. What did you get me?”

“Cereal and sandwich supplies.” Cruz answers. Turning to meet Aaliyah’s gaze. “Cheap and easy and no need to cook.”

“It’s perfect.” Aaliyah smiles.

They wash their hands. Fix sandwiches. Eat at the small kitchen table. Aaliyah seems more relaxed now. She’s less jumpy. Less afraid. But her eyes do keep traveling the room. Lingering on the door and the windows. Cruz wishes she could reach out. Take Aaliyah’s hand. Tell her that everything is without a doubt going to be ok. That nobody will be breaking down the doors or crashing through the windows. That if people are on the way to drag her back to her death, that they will be dealt with swiftly and efficiently by Cruz’s team. But she can’t relate any of this. Not without revealing her identity. And she can’t do that yet. She needs at least one night with Aaliyah. A full night. Without the specter of a wedding and an assassination looming over their heads.

They finish their meal. Clean up their mess. Cruz heads to the bathroom. Brushes her teeth. Checks out her reflection. She’s greasy. Smelly. Wishes she’d been able to stop for clothes. At least she packed a clean pair of underwear and socks. She goes into the bedroom. Opens the closet. Finds bathrobes. She pulls one off the hook. Sniffs it. Decides it smells clean. Grabs the second one off the hook. Walks back to the living room. Holds the robes up toward Aaliyah. “Shower?”

Aaliyah nods vigorously. Leaps up from the couch and runs into the bathroom. Cruz follows. Closes the door. Hangs the robes on the back of the door. She hears the water start. Turns around. Watches as Aaliyah begins to undress. Her shirt goes first. Then her bra. She pushes her sweatpants down. Steps out of them. Smirks. Turns around. Facing away from Cruz as she takes off her underwear.

Cruz is frozen throughout all of this. Heart pounding. Cunt throbbing. She’s overwhelmed. Didn’t think she’d ever get to be with Aaliyah like this again after their one incredible night together. Her eyes follow Aaliyah as she steps into the shower and under the spray. Wetting her hair. Moaning. Obscenely. She opens her eyes after a moment. Laughs, “Are you just going to watch?”

“No…” Cruz whispers. “No…” She gets herself together. Ripping off her clothes in seconds. Then she’s climbing into the shower. Aaliyah steps back. Letting her take a turn under the spray. She wets her hair. Lets out her own obscene moan. Because there are very few things that feel better in life than taking a shower when you are absolutely disgusting. And they are. Both of them. Which is why she abstains from pulling Aaliyah into her arms. Choosing instead to grab the soap.

Her choice earns her a small chuckle from Aaliyah, but otherwise there’s no protest. They keep their hands to themselves as they get clean. Soaping up. Rinsing off. Washing their hair with shampoo that smells like citrus hand soap and leaves their hair feeling dry. But that’s the only part of Cruz that feels that way. She's dripping. The close proximity to Aaliyah is driving her crazy. Their hands may have stayed respectful, but their bodies haven't. Brushing against one another as they’ve maneuvered in the small space. Cruz is breathing heavily now as she waits for Aaliyah to get the last bits of shampoo out of her hair. Her eyes are running over Aaliyah’s body. Her hard nipples. Her toned stomach. Her hips. Her c–

“Zara…” She hears Aaliyah’s voice. Drags her eyes up to Aaliyah’s face. “Kiss me.”

Cruz surges forward. Hands going to Aaliyah’s cheeks. Their lips meet. Part. Tongues begin tangling. She feels Aaliyah’s hands on her back. Nails digging into her skin. Then sliding down. Grabbing her ass. Squeezing. She moans. Steps forward. Pushing Aaliyah back until she’s pressed against the tile wall. She brings her right hand down. Cups Aaliyah’s breast. Pulling a moan from her lips. She begins squeezing Aaliyah’s tit. Rubbing her hard nipple with her palm. Aaliyah turns her head after a moment. Whimpers. Begs, “Zara… Please…”

Cruz feels the knife in her gut twist again. She buries her face in Aaliyah’s neck. Begins sucking on her pulse point. Wondering if she’s making an irreparable mistake by continuing the deceit. Choosing to fuck Aaliyah again before being honest with her. But she can’t make herself stop. She needs this and Aaliyah seems to need it. So she decides to continue the lie. Take this one last night. She can come clean tomorrow once they move to a more secure location.

She pulls her hand away from Aaliyah's breast. Slides it down. Fingertips trailing over Aaliyah’s shower slick abs. Her mound. Then she’s where Aaliyah needs her. Fingers stroking through wet folds. Thumb brushing over her clit.

Aaliyah whines. Squeezes her ass. “Don’t tease. Fuck me.”

Cruz grins. Pulls her head away from Aaliyah’s neck. Leans their foreheads together. Staring deep into Aaliyah’s eyes as she slips inside with two fingers.

Aaliyah’s mouth falls open. Her eyes slowly shut. She exhales a nearly silent, “Ohhhh.”

Cruz tips down. Kisses her. Aaliyah’s hands move to her face. Grabbing her cheeks. Holding her close as Cruz begins fucking her. Setting a quick pace. Desperate to feel Aaliyah come around her fingers. She’ll take her time later. Once they dry off and fall into bed. They’ll have the rest of the day and all night. She’s going to use that time wisely. Appreciate every inch of Aaliyah’s body. Do her best to show Aaliyah how much she cares. How much she loves her.

She curls her fingers. Rubbing over that special spot. Aaliyah whimpers into their kiss. Her cunt clenches. Cruz adds a third finger. Increases her pace. Starts rolling her own hips. Brushing her cunt on Aaliyah’s thigh. Aaliyah’s left hand falls from her face. Returns to her ass. Tugging. Trying to get her closer. Cruz resists the pressure. Wanting to focus completely on Aaliyah. She breaks the kiss. Finds Aaliyah’s ear. Whispers, “You first.”

Aaliyah whimpers. Cruz dips down to her neck. Sinks her teeth into Aaliyah’s neck. Biting. Hard. Because she can do this now. Bite and suck and mark without care. Aaliyah hisses. Her cunt clenches. Then she’s gasping, “Close… So… Ohh…”

Cruz releases her hold on Aaliyah’s neck. Sucks the skin into her mouth. Curls her fingers. Angles her palm to hit Aaliyah’s clit. She comes. Walls spasming. A long, breathy, “Zara…,” escaping her lips. Echoing in the small shower. Cruz slows her fingers. Comes to a stop. She pulls her mouth away from Aaliyah’s neck. Keeps her face there. Breathing heavily in through her nose. Hating the way that Aaliyah smells at the moment. Like citrus hand soap and not her usual enchanting scent of expensive perfume and chamomile shampoo.

She feels Aaliyah’s hands rubbing up and down her back. Hears her hum. Then she’s slapping Cruz on the ass. “Water is cold. Let’s continue this in bed.”

Cruz sighs. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s neck. Then she lifts up. Pulls out. Turns around and shuts the water off. They towel off. Leave the robes behind the door. Run into the bedroom. Jump into bed. Aaliyah makes a disgruntled noise after she lands. Cruz raises an eyebrow. Aaliyah laughs. Pushes her down until she’s flat on her back. Climbs astride her. Cunt resting on Cruz’s abs. She grinds down. Once. Twice. Then explains the source of her laughter. “The mattress is horrible. I will have to sleep on you tonight.”

“Oh…,” Cruz gasps. Mind searching for a quip. Something about Aaliyah’s wealth and privilege. But she can’t think of anything. Doesn’t find the mattress too uncomfortable. It’s much nicer than the busted mattress she slept in for years with Edgar or the bunks she frequented after she enlisted.

Aaliyah laughs above her. Smiles. Her eyes are bright. Lively. There’s no hint of worry in them. A sign she feels completely at ease here with Cruz or that she’s simply forgotten about their apparent danger now they are together like this. Naked. With Aaliyah’s cunt leaving wet streaks on Cruz’s abs. Making Cruz shiver. Making her shake. Her own need becomes too difficult to ignore. She brings her hands to Aaliyah’s hips. Grips her tightly. Lifts her own hips. Rutting up. Signaling what she needs. Aaliyah gets the message. Grinning down at her. Hands moving her to her tits. Squeezing them for a moment. Then she’s leaning down. Kissing Cruz. It’s soft. Sweet. There’s no tongue. But there is feeling. Love. Affection. Cruz melts. Whimpers when Aaliyah pulls away. She opens her eyes. Sees Aaliyah staring down at her. She looks pensive now. Nervous. Cruz’s heart starts beating fast. She has an idea of what Aaliyah is considering. A love confession. She can’t have that happen. Not yet. As much as she craves hearing those words, she needs to hear them as Cruz and not as Zara. She lifts up. Finds Aaliyah’s lips. Kisses her. Right hand going to Aaliyah’s cheek. She retreats from the kiss. Head falling back against the pillow. Thumb stroking over Aaliyah’s jaw. She searches for words. Something to indicate that now is not the time.

Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. Then she’s smiling. Leaning down. Pressing a quick kiss to Cruz’s lips. Pulling away. Whispering, “It’s ok. We don’t have to talk tonight.”

Cruz exhales. Relieved. She pulls Aaliyah close. Kisses her. Hard. Tongue plunging into Aaliyah’s mouth. Her hips start rolling. Searching for friction. She turns her face after a few seconds. Pushes on Aaliyah’s head. Whimpering, “Need you.”

She hears a small laugh. Turns back to face Aaliyah. They hold a heated stare as Aaliyah descends. She’s grinning. Wickedly. Cruz squirms. Feels wetness dripping out of her cunt. She spreads her legs once Aaliyah is in position. Reaches for the back of Aaliyah’s head. Pulls her in before Aaliyah can even think about teasing. She moans at the first swipe of Aaliyah’s tongue through her folds. Gasps when Aaliyah goes directly to her clit. Tongue lashing rapidly over the swollen nub. She sucks it into her mouth after a moment. Cruz wasn’t prepared for that. Her eyes slam shut. Her hips lift off the bed. Her torso too. Abs clenching tight enough to elevate her body.

Aaliyah releases her clit. Starts licking lightly over it. Chuckling. The vibrations making Cruz squirm after she settles back onto the mattress. Aaliyah slows down then. Moving away from her clit. Finding her entrance. Licking up all the arousal she’s spilling. Moaning loudly and obscenely. Like she’s having the time of her life down there. Tasting Cruz. Teasing her. Cruz is dying for her release, but she stays patient. Letting Aaliyah have her fun as she pants and squirms and sweats and moans. Aaliyah rewards her patience. Slowly building her up until she’s higher than she can ever remember being. She’s out of her mind now. Toes curling. Fingers twisting in the sheets. Her eyes are closed. Head thrashing back and forth. She feels Aaliyah taking her hand. She squeezes. Tight. Feels a moan against her cunt. Then there’s suction. She breaks. World shattering as pleasure rushes through her body. All she’s aware of is Aaliyah. Her tongue. Her hand. Her love.

For Zara…

She comes back to herself. Swallows back the bile that is rising in her throat. Brings her hand up to her face. Wipes away the sweat that has gathered on her brow. Then the traces of tears that are forming in the corner of her eyes. She feels a squeeze on her hand. Lips pressing against her stomach. Then there’s shuffling. Weight pressing down on her body. Lips on her cheek. Aaliyah’s voice. A whisper, “Look at me…”

Cruz turns her head. Opens her eyes. Gazes up into Aaliyah’s. She’s beautiful and she’s looking at Cruz–Zara–like she’s hung the stars.

Cruz exhales. Shakily. Feels herself beginning to panic. About tomorrow. Coming clean. Losing this love that she's found.

Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. Then close. Cruz lets her eyes do the same. Wills herself to calm down. She feels Aaliyah’s forehead resting against her own after a few moments. Then hears Aaliyah's voice, “Do you not want this?”

Cruz laughs at the absurdity of that question. She gets her hands to Aaliyah’s back. Holds her tight. “I want this. I do. I promise.”

“But you’re different tonight.” Aaliyah whispers. Cruz opens her eyes. Meets Aaliyah's gaze. Doesn't shy away from it as Aaliyah scrutinizes her. Then Aaliyah is leaning closer. Brushing her nose against Cruz's as she continues, “Different than you were in New York. Something is wrong... Weighing on you. I can tell.”

Cruz sighs. Reaches up. Pushes a strand of damp hair behind Aaliyah’s ear. Doesn’t refute Aaliyah’s statement that something is wrong. Choosing instead to repeat her reassurance, “I’m fine. I want this. Let me show you.”

She rolls Aaliyah onto her back. Kisses her. Long and slow and tenderly. Then she moves away. Begins the plan she formed in the shower. Using her lips and hands and tongue to show Aaliyah how much she cares. Hoping that when her lies are exposed Aaliyah will be able to look past her words to see the truth in her touch.

Chapter Text

Cruz stirs. Rolls over. Opens her eyes. Blinks until she regains her eyesight. Takes in her surroundings. White walls. Simple furniture. A plastic plant in the corner. The clock next to her reads 7:38 am. She curses. Scrambles out of bed. Every muscle in her body aching from the night she had. Long, pleasurable, heavy, strange, sad. She’d done her best to worship Aaliyah. Taking control for most of the night. But the mood was off. Like Aaliyah knew that Cruz was going to break her heart. Like she was also choosing to delay the inevitable. Pretend that everything was fine. 

They barely talked after that first conversation. Words limited to instructions on where to move and requests for feedback and pleas for ‘more’ and ‘harder.’ There were more tears too. Both of them crying a few times. The other pretending it wasn’t happening. But there was no more cuddling. No more softness. Not like there was that night at the Pendry or their night together on the ship. Aaliyah had finally pushed Cruz away around 1 am. Said she couldn’t take anymore. She’d gotten out of bed. Came back a few minutes later. Face washed. Teeth brushed. Climbed into bed. Rolled onto her side facing the other way. Cruz had gotten out of bed. Cleaned up. Returned. Lied down. Rolled onto her side. Facing away from Aaliyah. Closed her eyes. Tried to fall asleep. She wasn’t very successful. Tossing and turning all night. Spending a solid chunk of time with her eyes on the ceiling. But she did get some better rest toward the end. Rest that has her almost late to her meeting with Kyle. 

She walks toward the door. Pauses by the doorway. Sparing a quick glance to a still sleeping Aaliyah. She’s on her side. One of their sheets is balled up. Resting between Aaliyah’s face and her pillow. Cruz snorts. Understanding why she felt chilly during the night. She shakes her head. Exits the bedroom. Retrieves her pair of clean underwear and socks. Throws them on along with her dirty clothes. Finds her phone and the apartment key. Walks back into the bedroom. Takes a seat on the bed next to Aaliyah. Strokes gently over her arm. Whispering, “Aaliyah… Wake up…” 

Aaliyah’s eyelids flutter. Her nose scrunches. Cruz wishes she could kiss her. But she has a feeling that won’t be welcome. Not after last night. Not until they clear the air. Touching is probably also a bad idea, so she pulls her hand away from Aaliyah’s arm. 

Aaliyah hums. Her eyes open. “Zara?” She asks. Voice low and sleepy.

“Sorry to wake you up…” Cruz whispers. “...but we need to move today. Soon. Get up. Clean up. Eat if you’re hungry. I’ll be back with clothes and a plan.” 

Aaliyah inhales. Pushes herself up into a sitting position. She leans forward. Hand reaching for Cruz’s face. Cupping her cheek. “You’re certain it’s safe to leave me again?”

“Yes.” Cruz answers.

Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. She drops her hand. Sighs. Like she’s frustrated. Then she’s murmuring, “Ok. I’ll be ready when you get back.”

Cruz gives her a tight smile. Stands up. Leaves. She’s running late enough that she has to sprint the last block to the cafe to get there by 0800. She makes it with a minute to spare. Takes a seat outside. Kyle appears a few minutes later. Two shopping bags over his arms. Two cups of coffee in his hands. He sets the cups on the table. Then the bags. Takes a seat next to her. 

“So–” Kyle starts. 

“Wait.” Cruz interrupts. Slapping her hand flat against the table. She leans in close. Whispers, “Why are you sitting next to me and acting like you know me when yesterday was all secret conversations?”

“Oh.” Kyle grins. Gives her a little shrug, “I was just fucking with you yesterday.”

“You–” Cruz starts. Cuts off. Blinking. 

Kyle leans back in his seat. Grin turning smug. “Consider it your CIA hazing.” 

“Right…” Cruz huffs. Wishes she had something other than a cup of coffee to lob across the table at him. She won’t use that. Needs his help too much to risk pissing him off. And a face full of hot coffee would definitely do that. 

He laughs. Then sits up. Taps on the table. “Anyway. Back to business. Clothes are in the bag. Itinerary too. You’re heading to a little villa just outside El Grau de Moncofa. It’s about two and a half hours north by bus if you make your scheduled 10 am departure. Twice that if you miss it. You have to change buses once and you’ll do a fair amount of walking.”

Cruz winces. Grabs the coffee that she assumes is for her. Takes a sip. Processing the plan. It doesn’t make sense. Having them out in the open like that for so long. Especially when her team is right there. Surely one of them could pretend to be a hired driver and take them north. She slams her coffee cup down. Catches Kyle's eye. Voices her concern, “So we’re on the run, presumably being hunted by a man with significant resources, but you want us in public?”

Kyle holds her stare. Doesn’t answer. But his lips quiver almost imperceptibly. Like he’s trying to hold back laughter or another smug grin. 

Cruz sighs. “Another test…”

“Think of it this way…” Kyle leans closer. Lowers his voice, “...putting you through all of this means they want to keep you around.”

She hums. Taps on her coffee cup. Wondering whether she wants to be kept around. Going undercover and deceiving Aaliyah is eating her up inside. She can’t fathom doing this again. But whether she has a future in the business is a topic for another day. Right now her focus needs to remain on safely getting Aaliyah north. 

She reaches for the nearest bag. Finds a folder inside. Pulls it out. There’s a map. Transit schedules. An address. She points to it. “This where we’re headed?”

“Yup. It’s on the water. Relatively isolated. Fully stocked with food and clothes. Here. Let me show you.” Kyle unlocks his phone. Pulls up a Google Maps screenshot. Two houses. “You’ll be here…” He taps on the house to the right, “...and we’ll be right here. Ready to whisk you away if necessary. Air support is close. We can mobilize by sea too if this guy sends an army, but that’s doubtful. So you’ll have privacy and we’ll be able to cover you easily.”

Cruz exhales sharply through her nose. Flops against the back of her seat. Crosses her arms over her chest. “And how do I explain this to Aaliyah?”

“No fucking clue, dude.” Kyle shakes his head. Winces, “That’s on you to figure out.” 

She uncrosses her arms. Brings her hands to her face. Groans. Then she pulls her hands free. Closes the folder. Sets it back in the bag. Asks one last question, “Privacy from everyone including you?”

Kyle looks away. Laughs. Shyly. Seemingly chagrined. “We don’t need to listen to everything anymore. There’s a transponder in your bag. Turn it on if something happens that you think we should be aware of. Otherwise keep it off. We’ll be on your phone and your physical location. That should be good enough.”

She blows out a breath. “Ok.” Stands up. Gathers the bags and hooks them over her arms. Kyle shoves the second coffee toward her. “For your girl.” She picks both cups up. Gives him a smile. Steps away. Hears, “I’m sorry. By the way, I didn’t enjoy it. But…”

She turns around. Considers his statement and his still bashful demeanor. Gives him another tight smile. Finishing his sentence, “It’s the job.”

“Yeah.” He agrees. Disgust evident in his tone. That’s good enough for her to get over the violation. She nods. Spins around. Hurries back to their rented apartment. Aaliyah is pacing around the room when she arrives. Her hair is wet. The thin, possibly clean robe tied around her body. She looks surprised by the bags. Waving toward them. “You shopped that quickly?” 

“Yup.” Cruz lies. 

She closes the distance between them. Hands over a coffee. Sets her own coffee and the bags on the table. Grabs the one with the folder. Starts inching backwards toward the bathroom. “We need to leave immediately. Our bus is at 10. Put on your new clothes and start getting our food together. I’ll be out in a second and will explain on the way.”

She enters the bathroom before Aaliyah can protest. Strips off her dirty clothes. Starts the shower. Steps under the still cold water for just long enough to rinse the lingering traces of sex from her skin. Then she steps out. Dries off. Pulls out the clothes that are in her bag. A bikini. A black tank top. Jean shorts. Boat shoes. Aviator sunglasses. She fumes. Wondering if Joe plans on letting someone get close enough to them so she can see how well Cruz fights in this outfit. But then she calms down. They’re playing tourists by the sea. Exchanging one small town for another. It would make sense to travel dressed for the water. 

She puts her dirty clothes in her shopping bag. Returns to the living room. Aaliyah appears ready to go. She’s wearing a similar outfit. Short khaki shorts. Flip-flops. A white top with a cutout shoulder on the left side and a neckline that hangs low enough to show off part of her bikini top. Cruz drools for a moment. Still not quite able to process that she’s been permitted to put her mouth on those tits. She blinks. Shoves away her horny thoughts. Notices Aaliyah’s bags on the table. The bottle of milk and jug of water next to them. Aaliyah follows her gaze. Picking up the milk. Asking, “Keep or leave?”

“Leave.” Cruz replies. “Both of them. We’ll have provisions at our new place and we can get smaller water bottles on the way.” 

Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. She looks ready to say something. But she doesn’t. Picking up the milk instead. Setting it back inside the fridge. 

They leave. Walk silently inland for half an hour. Arrive at the bus station with ten minutes to spare. They sit on the curb. Drink their now cold coffees. Finish the last third of their bread and eat chocolate hazelnut cereal out of the box. Silently. Still. It’s a suffocating silence. Cruz knows it’s only a matter of time before it breaks and Aaliyah starts asking questions. Ones she’ll have no choice but to answer. Honestly for once. 

Their bus arrives. They board. Take seats near the front. Cruz pulls out the map that Kyle gave her. Checks their route. Snorts. Nudges Aaliyah in the side. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re only on this for a few minutes. Then we’ll get another one.”

The bus starts moving. They drive through town. Aaliyah’s eyes are focused out the window to her right. Cruz is staring straight ahead. Jaw clenched. Mind preparing for heartbreak.

They arrive in Sagunt. Exit the bus in front of what looks like an apartment building. Begin their next trek. This one is shorter. Only eight minutes. It’s a nice day. Sunny. Warm. She wishes she could hold her hand out. Take Aaliyah’s. Smile down at her. But their arms are full and the vibes between them uncomfortable, so she keeps her hands to herself. Keeps her head up. Surveying for danger and glimpses of her team.

They get to the second bus stop. Wait for almost half an hour. Silently. Aaliyah avoiding Cruz’s gaze. It’s painful. Heart wrenching. Cruz almost snaps and confesses just to get the inevitable over with. But here isn’t the place. Not when Aaliyah could run away. Put herself in danger. So Cruz waits. Breathes out a sigh of relief when their bus arrives. They board. Take seats near the front. Aaliyah turns her head. Stares out the window. Cruz clenches her jaw. Stares straight ahead. Resumes preparing for what might be the most difficult conversation of her life. Because how does someone reveal that they aren’t who they say they are and that they only know someone because they were sent to kill that person's father? And how does that person ever get over the deceit?

Cruz never knew her father. Wouldn’t bat an eyelash if someone said they’d killed him. But Aaliyah spoke fondly of her father. She would care about his death. Will care that Cruz almost killed him. She stews over her predicament for the next half an hour. Lets the topic go once they arrive at their stop in Moncafa. Her mind shifting focus to the next part of their journey. She pulls out her map once they exit the bus. Gets her bearings. It’s a hike. Over two miles. Then they have to turn north. Walk another mile. Cruz breaks their silence to relate this information. Aaliyah grunts. Starts walking. Doesn’t speak until they are about a mile into their journey. Grabbing Cruz’s arm. Pulling her to a stop in front of a busy cafe, “I’m thirsty and hungry. Can we stop here for a bit to rest?” 

Cruz considers. They’re safe, but she’s not sure how safe. Having Aaliyah out in the open for longer than necessary could be a risk. So she shakes her head. “Too dangerous.”

Aaliyah sighs. “Of course.” Kicks at the ground.

The action draws Cruz’s attention to her feet. She winces. Ready to throttle whoever decided to put Aaliyah in flip-flops for this journey. 

She decides to compromise. “Stopping for too long at a place like this is a bad idea. Too many witnesses and there are probably cameras. But we can get something to go. Sit on a bench for a few minutes. Then we need to move.”

That perks Aaliyah up. They walk another block. Find a bakery. Step inside. Leave with bottled waters, chicken empanadas, and almond croissants. Continue their journey. They don’t find a bench. At least not one that’s in a private area. So they give up. Reach the water. Turn north. Walk another twenty minutes until they get to a beach front villa. There’s a stone wall out front. A metal gate. Cruz checks the address twice to make sure she’s not about to trespass. Then she pushes the gate open. Gestures for Aaliyah to follow her. They walk down a concrete path. Neatly kept grass to either side. Climb seven stairs to a big porch. Wooden rocking chairs to the left of the front door. A cushioned wicker porch swing to the right. She puts her hand on the knob. Turns it. Opens the door slowly. Not expecting an ambush, but knowing she should always proceed as if one is lurking. 

She enters without getting ambushed. Holds the door for Aaliyah. Drops her bags on the ground. Does a quick sweep of the house. The front door leads into a big living area. The kitchen is against the wall in the back. There are two doors on the left. One leading to a small bedroom with a queen sized bed. The other to a bathroom. There are spiral metal stairs at the end of the room. They lead to a second level. A master bedroom suite. King sized bed. Huge windows that overlook the water. A big bathroom with an oval tub. She walks back downstairs. Finds Aaliyah by the kitchen sink drying her hands on a dish towel.

She sets the towel on the counter. Turns around. “Is it safe to be outside?”

“Yes.” Cruz replies. Honestly. 

“Good. I will be out there if you need me.” Aaliyah grabs her portion of the food and her water. Walks toward the door. Pauses. Detours to the coffee table. Picks up a newspaper that’s sitting on the surface. Then she’s out the door. 

Cruz sighs. Heads to the sink. Washes her hands. Dries them on the dish towel. Opens one of the cabinets. Pulls out a glass. Closes the cabinet. Tips forward. Banging her head against the wood repeatedly for God knows how long. She hears the front door open. Heavy footsteps. She turns. Spots a furious Aaliyah storming toward her. She leans back against the kitchen counter. Bracing herself for the fury that’s about to hit her. 

Aaliyah stops when she’s in front of the kitchen table. She points her finger. “You… You…” She cuts off. Growls. Tries again. “I can’t believe this. I am so stupid.” She laughs. Wryly. “You say you're a college student, but you won’t show me your dorm room and you’re free to travel overseas and to visit me when you should have been in classes. You’re evasive. Won’t speak about your parents. Make vague references to an uncle. You froze a few times when I call you Zara as we fuck. You always bring up my father. Where is he? Will he be at the wedding? You seemed way too prepared and comfortable as we made this escape. Like you’ve done it before or have been trained to do it. You leave this morning for supplies and come back with clothes well before stores are open and directions to this place…” She waves her left arm. Gesturing around the room. “We’re in a beautiful beachside villa that we entered without a key. Now this…”

She throws the newspaper onto the table. Points at a headline. Cruz steps away from the counter. Walking close enough to the table so she can read what Aaliyah is pointing at. It’s a headline. Written in Spanish. The translation reading,‘Oil Tycoon’s Daughter Kidnapped From Wedding. Mallorcan Officials Suspect Terrorist Link.’ 

Cruz’s eyes go wide. She holds back a humorless laugh at how Kaitlyn has chosen to spin this. Knowing that her reaction won’t go over well with Aaliyah. But she’s somewhat relieved. The fact that the CIA has chosen to plant this story likely indicates their willingness to get Aaliyah out. 

“Who…are…you?!” Aaliyah shouts. Pausing for a beat in between each word.

Cruz lifts her gaze. Finds Aaliyah’s eyes. Finally gives her the truth. “Cruz.”

“Cruz.” Aaliyah repeats. Voice now small. Weak. Stunned. Like she was hoping to come in here and yell at Cruz only for Cruz to tell her that she was mistaken about her suspicions.

“Manuelos.” Cruz continues. “Cruz Manuelos. That’s my real name.”

“Right…” Aaliyah nods. She takes a deep breath. Runs her fingers through her hair. “So you’re what? CIA?”

“Yes.” Cruz confirms. Voice even. Gaze firm. Even though she’s falling to pieces inside. 

Aaliyah scoffs. Tips her head back. Staring at the ceiling as she groans, “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“A Marine too or mostly. I was a Marine first. This… this… whatever this is, is recent.” Cruz adds. Stumbling over her words. 

Aaliyah drops her head. Moves her hands to her hips. Her eyes narrow. Her jaw clenches. She’s furious again. Raging. “And you were sent to me then? To seduce me? To learn my father’s secrets? Kill him?”

“No!” Cruz shouts. Answering the second question that Aaliyah asked. Then hurrying to clarify, “I mean, yes. I was sent to you. To get close to you. The mission was to kill your father. But seducing you wasn’t part of the mission. Falling for you wasn’t… Wasn’t…” Cruz cuts off into a sigh. 

Aaliyah’s anger recedes. She looks wounded now. Broken. Her voice small as she murmurs, “I don’t know you…” 

“You do.” Cruz offers. “Parts of me.” And it’s the truth. She’s shared things with Aaliyah. Like the scars on her back and arms. Her fear as they watched Paranormal Activity. Her tears after they finished The Notebook. 

Her words aren’t enough to satisfy Aaliyah. Not that Cruz thought they would be. Aaliyah takes a step back. Tears falling down her cheeks. “I need to go. Think.” 

Cruz sighs. Feels tears forming in her own eyes. The last thing she wants is for Aaliyah to walk out the front door, but she knows it’s necessary. So she smiles. Sadly. “I understand. You’ll be safe if you stay close. If you decide to leave, skip town, I can’t guarantee that my team will follow you and protect you.”

Aaliyah nods. Turns around. Stomps out the door. Cruz falls to the ground. Leans back against a cabinet. Sobs. 

Time passes. She hears her phone buzzing in her bag. She gets to her feet. Wipes her eyes. Sees a call from ‘Daddy.’ She winces. Having no desire to speak to Joe. But she has no choice, so she connects the call. Answering brusquely, “Yeah.”

“Hey, Cruz.” Bobby’s voice responds. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re tracking your girl. She’s sitting on the beach. Crying. I take it you came clean?”

“Yeah.” Cruz whispers. Doesn’t bother hiding a subsequent sniffle or pushing back on the notion of Aaliyah being 'her girl.' She's not a fan of that phrasing. Heard it often when she was with Edgar. 'My girl.' 'My bitch.' 'My slut.' But she knows Bobby doesn't mean anything by it. Knows Kyle didn't either when he referred to Aaliyah that way yesterday and this morning. So it's not worth the correction. Especially when the phrasing might no longer be applicable. 

She sniffles again. Wipes her nose. Waits for Bobby to speak. Hears shouting in the background. The kind she’d hear when everyone was playing video games in the living room. The noises soften. Then they disappear. Replaced by wind. Bobby’s voice comes through the line a moment later, “Give her time. She’s not running away, so that’s good. We’ll reach out if she does make a major move.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Cruz chokes out. Throat dry. 

“Uh-huh.” Bobby grunts. Then the line goes dead.

Cruz throws her phone onto the table. Contemplates falling to the ground again. Curling into a ball. Crying. But that won’t solve anything. She should get moving. Take care of herself. Eat her empanadas and almond croissant. Take a real shower. Check out their temporary home. She opts to do the latter first. Grabbing her tote bag. Climbing the spiral stairs to the master bedroom. She walks to the dresser. Sets her bag on top. Opens the drawers. Finds more clothes in their sizes. She walks to the closet. Pulls the doors open. Finds a vacuum. Two spare sets of bedding. Extra pillows. Robes. The sight of the white terry cloth knocks the wind out of her. Memories surfacing of Aaliyah wearing a robe that night in the Pendry. When they’d had their first painful conversation. Memories of seeing Aaliyah in a similar robe last night when they broke for an awkward and silent dinner of chocolatey cereal and milk. She heaves herself onto the bed. Sobs. Rolls over after a few minutes of crying. Spots a piece of loose leaf paper sticking out of the nightstand drawer. She pulls it free. Unfolds it. Reads, ‘Cruz, heard you were in the market for one of these. Consider it an apology for how everything went down. -Bobby’

Cruz squints. Sits up. Wipes her face. Flings open the drawer. Spots a harness. A rectangular box with a picture of a dildo on the side. A bottle of lube. 

She blinks. Slams the drawer shut. Flops back against the mattress. Starts laughing. Hysterically. Then she’s sobbing again. Curling into a ball. Because there’s no way Aaliyah will get past this deception. No chance that they'll be able to use the apology toy. The one purchased because her night with Aaliyah was recorded. Their passion. Their love. Their conversations about sex toys. Cruz lets herself wallow for a long while. Crying from shame and guilt. Grieving for a love she might never have. She gets her feelings out of her system. Then she gets out of bed. Takes another shower. A full one. Washing her hair. Shaving her legs. Using soap and shampoo that actually smells nice. She puts on fresh clothes. Cotton briefs, athletic shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. Heads downstairs. Heats her empanadas in the microwave. Eats. Lies down on the couch. She’s exhausted. Weeks of not being able to sleep because of her guilty conscious catching up to her. But the secret is out now. Her mind able to relax. She’s asleep the second her eyes shut. 

A plane roaring overhead rouses Cruz. She wipes her eyes. Checks the time on the clock above the TV. 6:51 pm. She gets up. Does a sweep of the house. No Aaliyah. She’s been gone for several hours by this point. Cruz starts panicking. Wondering if Aaliyah will ever return. Wondering if she's alright. She gets her brain working. Remembering that her team is watching over Aaliyah. That they promised to keep her updated. She retrieves her phone. Finds no messages. Meaning Aaliyah is fine, relatively speaking, and still nearby.

Cruz throws her phone on the couch. Begins to pace around the living area. Unsure of what to do with herself as she waits for Aaliyah's next move. There are magazines on the coffee table. A bookshelf full of paperbacks. But reading doesn’t appeal. She ends up outside. Sitting on the porch swing. Staring at the sea. Waiting. Praying that Aaliyah will return to her. 

The sun is setting when she hears the gate open. She glances toward the entrance. Her heart begins pounding out of her chest as she watches Aaliyah walk through the yard and up the stairs. She sits up straight. Resists the urge to speak. Knowing that Aaliyah needs to be the one to guide their conversation.

Aaliyah smiles at her. It’s a soft smile. Shy. A promising sign. Even if there is pain behind her tear swollen eyes. “I need water and," Aaliyah points to her face, “to get presentable. Stay here. I’ll be out soon.”

Cruz returns the soft smile. Whispers, “Ok.” 

She moves her gaze to the water once Aaliyah enters the house. Zones out. Watching the waves hit the shore. She hears footsteps. Twists her head. Watches as Aaliyah walks in front of her. Takes a seat on the other side of the swing. The added weight puts them in motion. Aaliyah giggles. Like she’s delighted by how they are swaying through the air. 

She turns to Cruz after a moment. Rests her hand on Cruz’s thigh. Her voice barely above a whisper as she begins speaking, “I’m angry. Really angry. And I think I’m going to be angry for a long time.”

Cruz exhales. Heart shattering. She gives Aaliyah a small nod. Breaks eye contact. Staring down at the porch. Gray stone. Windblown sand.   

She feels a squeeze to her thigh. Then Aaliyah is continuing. “Not just at you. At myself too. We were warned about this constantly. Told not to meet strangers. Told not to get too close with anyone who hadn’t been properly vetted. But I was choking under those rules and then there you were. Beautiful and kind and full of compliments and I couldn’t resist. So I looked past the red flags. Your weird hours and your evasiveness and how you appeared to me like you were part of my world, yet you had no money and hadn’t been anywhere.”

Cruz sucks in a deep breath. She feels tears running down her cheeks. She lifts her right hand. Brushes them away. Stays silent. Eyes on the porch. 

“You lied to me.” Aaliyah squeezes her thigh. Sighs. “Repeatedly. Even after we agreed on no more lies.”

“Yes.” Cruz confesses. Finding the courage to lift her eyes and meet Aaliyah’s gaze. 

“But you care for me?” Aaliyah asks. Right hand going to Cruz’s face. Cupping her cheek. 

“Yes.” Cruz confesses again. 

Aaliyah swallows. Her voice cracking as she whispers, “Love me?” 

Cruz nods.

Aaliyah smiles. Tears start rolling down her cheeks. She drops her hand from Cruz’s face. Wipes them away. Then she’s standing up. Holding out her hand. “Come. Walk with me.”

Cruz takes Aaliyah’s hand. Lets Aaliyah guide her down the stairs and through the gate. Leaving their villa unlocked. Her team is right next door. Watching. She imagines any intruders would be dealt with swiftly. So she’s not bothered by the security lapse. Doesn’t even recall seeing a key. 

They cross the road. Walk through a few yards of dunes. Then they find sand. Aaliyah pulls her down to the surf. They stroll north. Hand in hand. Silently. It’s a heavy silence, but not as unbearable as the silence they experienced this morning. They’ve gotten the hard part out of the way. Now they need to talk things through. Clear the air. See if they can move past Cruz’s deception and all of her lies.

“I have questions.” Aaliyah starts once they’re out of range of the house. “About what you’ve told me.”

“Ask. I’ll answer.” Cruz glances to her right. Meets Aaliyah’s eyes. “Honestly this time.” 

Aaliyah presses her lips together. Forming a tight smile. Her gaze drifts to the beach ahead. It’s another ten yards before she asks her first question, “The bruises. Where did those come from?”

“S.E.R.E.” Cruz replies without hesitation.

Aaliyah comes to a stop. Tugs on Cruz’s hand. “What?” 

Cruz spins to face Aaliyah. Chuckles at the baffled look on her face. Begins clarifying, “An acronym. 'Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape’ training. My boss wanted to test me. So she had a CAG team kidnap me. Ferry me out to an island. They blasted me with a firehose, tortured me with audio, beat me…”

Aaliyah gasps. Squeezes her hand. She looks horrified. Angry too. 

Cruz laughs drily. She breaks eye contact. Turns her gaze to the water over Aaliyah’s shoulder. Sighs. Thinking about that ferry ride and all those miserable hours of torture. Grits her teeth. Also feeling angry. She forces herself to calm down. Finds Aaliyah’s eyes. Finishes her explanation. “Wasn’t my first time going through that. But this was worse. Much worse. My boss was there. Spoke to me. Telling me how she needed to know my breaking point and how long I could survive if things went south and she needed to rescue me.” 

Aaliyah laughs.

Cruz frowns. “What’s funny?”

“My father… He wouldn’t.” Aaliyah laughs again. “He’s not that kind of guy. His guards would just shoot you. There’d be no torture or rescue. They’d just…” She lifts her right hand. Forms a gun with her fingers. Mimes pulling a trigger. “Bang. Dead.”

Cruz winces. Doesn’t have a response for that so she stays silent. Aaliyah scrutinizes her for a moment. Then she hums. Pulls on Cruz’s hand. Leads her up the beach. They walk a few more yards. Then Aaliyah is speaking again, “And the scars? Those were old…”

Cruz grimaces. She hates thinking about Edgar and those years of abuse. But Aaliyah deserves the truth, so she’ll give it to her. “My mom died when I was 16. My younger brother had died before that. My older brother was in and out of trouble. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was angry. Started making bad decisions.” She turns to her right. Aaliyah’s eyes are on her. She has to look away. Unable to handle the scrutiny as she speaks about her past. But she loses her nerve. The topic too painful. So she falls silent. Stays silent. 

Aaliyah squeezes her hand. Prodding gently, “This man was one of those decisions?” 

The touch gives Cruz the reassurance she needs to speak. “Yeah…” She sighs. Kicks at the beach. Watches as sand flies through the air in front of her. “Edgar. We met when I was 20. He was nice at first. Charming. Kept me safe. But then he changed and I couldn’t get out and I didn’t think I deserved to be out. So I stayed for over two years and then one day I just couldn’t take it anymore…” She huffs. Mind going back to that morning. What she was feeling. Fury. Sadness. Fear. “I beat his face in with a frying pan. Ran. He recovered to chase me down the street and into town. I stumbled into a recruiting office. A Marine saved my life.”

She hears a mumbled curse next to her. Turns. Finds Aaliyah’s eyes. She’s angry. But this time it’s on Cruz’s behalf.  

Her face lightens after a moment. Then she’s asking, “That’s why you joined?” 

“In a way.” Cruz answers. “I had nowhere else to go. No degree. A minimum wage job that wasn’t enough to pay for my own apartment. The legal system wouldn’t have kept me safe from him. Enlisting and moving seemed like the best way to make sure he didn’t kill me.” 

Aaliyah scowls. More anger. But once again it’s not aimed at Cruz. 

Cruz smiles. Lets out a small laugh. Because she’s not used to someone caring for her like this. Doesn’t quite know how to react.

Aaliyah is the one to break eye contact this time. Her eyes drift ahead to the beach. Cruz lets her gaze go there as well. They keep walking. Slowly. Hands joined. Swinging between them. 

“But now you’ve killed?” Aaliyah asks after a few minutes of silent walking.

“Yes.” Cruz replies. Head turning to meet Aaliyah’s gaze.

Her eyes are narrowed. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She releases it. Asks a follow up question, “A lot of people?”

Cruz exhales. Breaks eye contact. Her body count a very difficult topic of conversation. One she avoids even with her fellow soldiers. But she’s answering all of Aaliyah’s questions today, so she’ll fight through her discomfort to provide an honest response, “Hard to say. I’ve fought. Afghanistan. Pakistan. Seen some shit. Done some shit. I don’t think about it. Can’t. I–”

“But you would have killed my father?” Aaliyah interrupts.

Cruz comes to a sudden stop. Legs locking upon hearing Aaliyah’s question. She tugs on Aaliyah’s hand. Waits for Aaliyah to turn and face her. Then she’s stepping in close. Giving Aaliyah the absolute truth, “I don’t know.”

Aaliyah takes a step back. Pulls her hand free. Scoffs. “You don’t know?” 

“I– I– Ugh…” Cruz groans. Doesn’t try to step closer. Respecting Aaliyah’s sudden need for space. She has no idea what to say now, so she opts to start rambling. “He’s the reason I left you that night. You were sleeping peacefully and we’d just shared this amazing evening together and I was feeling so much for you in that moment and then it hit me that I was only with you because I had to kill your father and it made me sick. I got up. Had a panic attack in the bathroom. Called my boss. She flew up from DC. I went downstairs. And she started telling me all this stuff. Saying that you couldn’t feel anything for me. That you were using me for fun before your marriage. So I went back upstairs. Spoke to you. Begged you not to get married because that was the only way I could see to get us out of this.”

Aaliyah laughs. Shakes her head. Disgusted. She meets Cruz’s gaze. Voice weak as she asks, “Would that have really gotten us out of this?”

“No…” Cruz sighs. “Probably not.”

It’s true. If Aaliyah called off the wedding, she’d have to run away from her family and no longer be of use to the CIA, so the mission would end. Cruz would have to disappear from her life. Unless she chose to reappear with her head tucked between her tail. Begging for forgiveness. Maybe Aaliyah would grant it to her. Maybe not. There’s no guarantee. Maybe they needed to escape together for Aaliyah to understand that it’s real between them.

Aaliyah tilts her head. Gesturing down the beach. Then she starts walking. Cruz follows. The silence between them heavy again. Uncomfortable. Cruz tries to tune it out by focusing on her surroundings. The sun is almost down. The sky is a deep blackish blue. The shade reminiscent of her recent bruises. There’s a glimmer of light to their left. A few ship lights visible on their right.  

She successfully zones out. Listening to the water splashing on the shore. The sound of their feet landing on sand. Almost leaps out of her skin when Aaliyah bumps into her side. She turns. Listens to Aaliyah’s next round of questioning, “But what if Ehsan hadn’t discovered us? Hadn’t given me a reason to leave and I’d gone through with the wedding? Become his wife. Would that have made it easier for you to kill my father? To punish me?”

Cruz pulls her upper lip into her mouth. Bites it as she thinks. The answer to Aaliyah’s last question is easy. ‘No.’ But she still can’t say whether she’d have gone through the assassination. She releases her lip. Replies. Honestly. “I don’t know if it would have made it easier. I still don’t know whether I’d have gone through with it. But if I did, it wouldn’t be to punish you. I know that’s not the answer you want to hear, but it’s the truth. And we said no more lies. I’m a Marine. A CIA asset. I’m trained to follow orders. But hurting you would have killed me. Even if you were married and our chances of ever being happy together had officially eroded. So maybe knowing that I’d be effectively killing myself would have been enough for me to fail my mission. I hope so.”

Cruz chances a glance to her right. Finds Aaliyah looking at her with an even expression on her face rather than anger. That’s a good sign. Lets Cruz feel somewhat relieved as she keeps rambling. “But I can’t know because I never had the chance to find out. You were in danger, so I acted. Chose you. And now it’s irrelevant. The US government changed their mind. Called the mission off after they sent me inside.”

Aaliyah’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “So he’s safe?” 

“For now.” Cruz nods. “I can’t guarantee they won’t change their mind and send someone else after him, but it won’t be me. I’m done. I think. Doing this. Lying to you. It was eating me alive. I’d rather go back to knocking down doors.”

Aaliyah hums. They hold a stare. Continue their steady pace down the beach. Then Aaliyah is breaking eye contact. Reaching for Cruz’s hand. Linking their fingers together. She swings Cruz’s arm. Asks, “Is that what you’ll do? Knock down doors?”

“No idea.” Cruz replies. “I’m in the dark on what happens in the future. Running away with you could get me kicked out of the military. So there'd be no more door knocking. At least on behalf of the military. I could probably land a private security job. Depending on how I'm discharged.”

She winces. Feels her stomach rocking. Anxiety making her queasy. Joining the Marines was easily the best thing that ever happened to her before meeting Aaliyah. She was certain she'd be lifer. Transitioning to a desk job after she got too old for the battlefield. Now that might not happen. She might have to change careers again. Isn't sure what she's cut out for. Just that stripping and burger flipping aren't an option. 

She hears a hum. Feels a squeeze on her hand. Then Aaliyah is turning back to face her. Eyebrow raised expectantly as she asks, “And me?”  

“I’m in the dark on that too.” Cruz responds. Wincing. Hating that she can’t give Aaliyah a better answer. 

Aaliyah’s lips purse. Her nose scrunches. She huffs. Seemingly coming to terms with Cruz’s inability to clarify her future. Then her face relaxes and she’s whispering, “So what about now?”

“Now…” Cruz starts. Pauses to let out a long sigh. “...we wait while people back in DC decide our fate.”

They’ve reached a point on the beach. There’s a grassy hill ahead. Boulders. The sand changes. Going from fine grains to a mix of pebbles and shells. Aaliyah pulls her to one of the boulders. They climb on top. Take a seat facing the water. It’s completely dark now. Stars are out. A full moon. Aaliyah’s hand goes to her thigh. Rests there. Cruz turns. Waits for Aaliyah’s next question. It comes a second later,  “When you looked at me like you loved me, were you pretending?”

Cruz wasn’t prepared to hear those words. She’s thrown for a moment. Sucks in a big breath to steady herself. Then she’s answering firmly and truthfully, “No.”

Aaliyah gives her a tight smile and a nod and then another question, “When you touched me like you loved me, were you pretending?”

“No.” Cruz answers again. Voice firm. Uncompromising. 

Aaliyah’s smile grows. Her hand slides away from Cruz’s thigh. Dropping down to cover Cruz’s hand where it rests between them on the rock. “When you said you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, were you lying?” 

“No.” Cruz answers. Voice still firm. Then her mind intrudes. Reminding her that her statement the other night was a half lie because she couldn’t guarantee Aaliyah’s safety. “But…” She starts. Cuts off. Needing a moment to figure out how to phrase her words. 

“But…?” Aaliyah repeats. Expression darkening again.

“But…” Cruz drags out the word. “I probably shouldn’t have said that to you because I couldn’t follow through. But I couldn’t tell you what I really meant without freaking you out, so those are the words I used.”

Aaliyah’s face relaxes. Her fingers slide beneath Cruz’s palm. Clasping it in her own. “What did you really mean?”

Cruz chuckles. Looks toward the water. Voice soft as she admits, “That if people came after us, I’d die trying to protect you.”

She hears a sharp exhale. Then Aaliyah is squeezing her hand. Lifting it. Cruz turns her head back toward Aaliyah. Watches as Aaliyah places a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Then she’s lowering their hands. Bringing them to rest in her own lap. “Can you live with me being angry?”

“Yes.” Cruz replies. Not needing to think about her answer. She’s lived through anger before. Rage. But she knows it will be different this time. That Aaliyah’s feelings are justified and she’d never take them out on Cruz.

Aaliyah nods. Turns her body. Reaching out with her free hand to cup Cruz’s cheek. “Even if it means I might occasionally need space? Time to process and work through my feelings…” 

“Yes.” Cruz responds. 

Aaliyah smiles softly. Drops her hand from Cruz’s face. Sliding it down to Cruz’s tank top. Tugging on it. “Even if it means I may never be able to forgive you?”

“Yes.” Cruz answers. Instantly. Firmly. 

Aaliyah raises an eyebrow, “You’re sure.”

“I am.” Cruz pivots her body. Brings her free hand up. Covers Aaliyah’s where it’s still plucking nervously at her top. Raises it to rest over her heart. “I love you. I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I will do everything in my power to earn it.” 

Aaliyah smiles again. It’s a half smile. Just the slightest curl of her lips. Her head turns. Her eyes moving to the water. She stares at it. Silently. Cruz keeps her mouth shut. Letting Aaliyah work through whatever is going on in her mind. Her patience is rewarded after a moment. Aaliyah turns. Whispers, “Kiss me.” 

Cruz reacts. Leaning in. Finding Aaliyah’s lips. Closing her eyes and pressing the softest and sweetest kiss she can manage against them. She retreats after a moment. Opens her eyes. Stares into Aaliyah’s as their noses brush. Aaliyah pulls her hand free from Cruz’s grip. Her eyes close. Cruz leans in again. Kisses her, soft and sweet, as Aaliyah’s hands land on her cheeks. She gets her arms up. Places her hands on Aaliyah’s back. Their kisses grow more passionate. Harder. Longer. Aaliyah begins whimpering into her mouth. The noise makes Cruz lose control. She slides her right hand between them. Finds Aaliyah’s breast. Squeezes it.

Aaliyah turns her head. Gasps. Cruz chuckles. Moves her hand up until she’s at the edge of Aaliyah’s shirt. Then she slides down. Pushes underneath Aaliyah’s bikini. Finds her nipple. Begins rolling it between her index finger and thumb. 

“Fuck… Za–” Aaliyah starts. Cutting off. Cursing again, “Fuck.” It’s a different kind of curse than the first one. Made out of disgruntlement and frustration rather than pleasure. 

Cruz stills her hand. Pulls back so she can find Aaliyah’s eyes. She’s blushing. Wincing. 

Cruz laughs. Leans forward. Presses a quick kiss to Aaliyah’s lips. “You can call me that, if you need to.”

“No!” Aaliyah responds immediately. Voice slightly elevated. “No. If we’re doing this, then I need to know you as you. Cruz… Cruz Man…” She cuts off again. Slaps a hand over her mouth. 

“-uelos,” Cruz finishes. Chuckling. Leaning in again. Kissing the back of Aaliyah’s hand where it still rests on her mouth. She pulls away. Removes her hand from Aaliyah’s shirt. Hops off the boulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Find a place more comfortable to continue this.”

Aaliyah drops her hand from her mouth. Reaches out. Grabs Cruz’s arm. Tugs her closer. Whispering, “Not yet.” 

“Not yet?” Cruz echoes. Tilting her head. Lifting an eyebrow. Intrigued. Because the look on Aaliyah’s face is mischievous. Like she has something dangerous in mind. Something dangerous and fun. 

“Not yet.” Aaliyah confirms. Hands sliding around to rest on Cruz’s ass. “Our fates are uncertain. This could be the last time we’re alone on a beach together. We should make the most of it.”

“Oh.” Cruz exhales. Heart rate picking up. Arousal beginning to pool between her legs. She brings her hands to Aaliyah’s thighs. Rubs them up and down. “Are you sure? Didn’t your last time on a beach fail to live up to expectations?”

Aaliyah snorts. Reaches down. Grabbing Cruz’s right hand. Bringing it to rest between her legs. “Last time I was…” Cruz presses down on Aaliyah’s slit. Disrupting her train of thought. “Uhh… Mmm…” 

Cruz grins. Continues dragging her fingers over the seam of Aaliyah’s shorts. Teasing her like she’d wanted to tease her as they drove to the Pendry. Soft touches over sensitive fabric covered skin. Aaliyah starts rolling her hips. Seeking more friction. Cruz gives it to her. Pressing down harder as she prods, “Last time you were…”

Aaliyah exhales sharply. Her hands go to Cruz’s hips. Her eyes narrow like she’s trying to concentrate. Then she’s speaking, “Last time was with someone I didn’t love and we were rolling around in the sand. This time will be different. No sand if we’re careful. And I’m with you… so I–” She cuts off again as Cruz starts circling her clit. Eyes closing. Fingertips digging into Cruz’s upper glutes. 

Cruz works her fingers for another few moments. Carefully watching Aaliyah’s reactions. Her parted lips. Her fluttering eyelashes. Making her come like this would be the safest choice. No risk of sand ending up in bad places or prying eyes getting a show. But less fun. Less memorable. So she leans in close. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s cheek. Then finds her ear. Whispering, “I want to use my mouth on you.”

Aaliyah lets out a strangled noise. Cruz laughs as she pulls back. Aaliyah’s eyes are open now. She’s nodding vigorously. So Cruz removes her hand. Steps away. Surveying their options. The boulder is too high for Cruz to go down on Aaliyah while she is seated. She’ll have to stand and Cruz will have to get her knees dirty. 

Cruz holds out her hand. “Hop down. Lean against the boulder. I’ll get on my knees. You can enjoy the view of the water while I taste you.”

Aaliyah takes Cruz’s hand. Lets Cruz help her down. She leans against the boulder. Cruz steps in close. Leans down to press a kiss to Aaliyah’s neck. Aaliyah whimpers. Tilts her head to give Cruz more access. Then she’s pushing Cruz away. Frowning, “But your knees?”

Cruz snorts. Leans right back in to press an open mouthed kiss to Aaliyah’s neck. Then she finds Aaliyah’s ear. Whispers, “I’ve spent hours kneeling in more uncomfortable positions. I’ll be fine.”

Aaliyah pushes her away again. Frown still on her face. Apparently not placated by that answer. Cruz grins. Leans in for another kiss. This one on Aaliyah’s lips. It’s light. Slow. Then Cruz pulls away. Presses a kiss to each of Aaliyah’s cheeks. Her eyelids flutter. She exhales. Cruz moves to her lips again. Kisses her. Deep. Wet. Dirty. They’re both breathless when it ends a few minutes later. Cruz bites her lip. Runs her eyes down Aaliyah’s body. Her chest is rising and falling. Her hips are rocking. Cruz drops her to knees. Brings her fingers to the button on Aaliyah’s khaki shorts. Pops it open. Slides the zipper down. Pushes the shorts to Aaliyah’s ankles. Does the same to Aaliyah’s bikini bottoms. Aaliyah lifts her right leg. Stepping out of the garments. She spreads her legs. Leaving her bikini and shorts around her left ankle. 

Cruz leans in. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s mound. Inhales. Has to shut her eyes when Aaliyah’s scent fills her nose. She looks up. Discovers that Aaliyah’s frown is back. She mimics the frown as she sits back on her heels. Right hand going to Aaliyah’s thigh. Mind replaying their last few moments. She’s not entirely sure what Aaliyah’s expression is about, but she has a guess. Her comment about being in worse situations possibly having Aaliyah thinking about her military career. What she’s faced and done. She slides her hand up and down over the smooth skin of Aaliyah’s thigh. Whispers, “You can ask me about my career, if you need to. I’ll share what I can. Later though. Unless you need answers before you can enjoy this.”

“No.” Aaliyah shakes her head. Reaches out. Her right hand finding Cruz’s cheek. “I just don’t want to be the source of more pain… more scars…”

Cruz takes a deep breath. Heart about to burst from the care that Aaliyah has shown her since their first meeting. Taking her to a different store to fix her makeup. Calling a doctor to examine her injuries. Blowing up her phone with worry when she left Cruz at the club. Treating her to a spa day. And then there was that night they shared in the hotel room. She’d been so gentle. Kissing each of Cruz’s scars. Like she thought each careful press of her lips would be enough to heal them. It wasn’t enough. Will never be enough. But that kind of treatment might one day be enough to heal her emotional scars. And if Cruz had to choose, she’d prefer those to be the scars that heal. Because she’d like to sleep through the night without nightmares. She’d like to walk down the street and see someone with Edgar’s profile and not have her nervous system go haywire. She’d like to pass a strip club and not flinch. She'd like to drink a milkshake without feeling phantom pains in her eye. 

Aaliyah’s hand moves higher on her face. Pushing back a strand of her hair. Cruz smiles at her. Offers her last attempt at reassurance, “I’ll happily scrape my knees if it means making you feel good.”

Aaliyah’s nostrils flare. She stares at Cruz for a long moment. Then she’s sliding her hand around to the back of her head. Whimpering as she pulls Cruz forward.

Cruz goes willingly. Opening her mouth. Parting Aaliyah’s folds with her tongue. Sliding it down to her entrance. Lapping up her arousal. Swallowing it with a moan. She wasn’t sure she’d be here again. Tasting Aaliyah. Was certain last night was it for them. So she’d spent hours down here. Slowly dragging her tongue over Aaliyah’s folds. Experimenting with pressure and suction and patterns. Finding what made her shake and gasp and explode. Committing every second of that exploration to memory. Wanting something to hold onto if Aaliyah told her to get lost. To fuck off. To go to hell. But she hasn’t. She’s stayed. Indicated a desire to move forward and a willingness to eventually forgive Cruz. And now she’s opening herself up again. Making herself vulnerable. Trusting Cruz to take care of her. To help fulfill a fantasy. To keep her safe from danger. 

Cruz’s tongue falters. Mind briefly going to their predicament. The manhunt that’s underway for Aaliyah. Her team lurking nearby. Possibly watching. She doesn’t want to worry Aaliyah with these concerns, so she regains her focus. Pulling away from Aaliyah’s cunt. Making a show of licking her lips. Then she’s grinning. Flirting, “I love the way you taste.” 

“Yeah?” Aaliyah asks. Breathless. Hips rolling. Begging for Cruz’s tongue to return. 

Cruz heeds the call. Leaning forward. Swirling her tongue around Aaliyah’s entrance. Moaning loudly as she collects another mouthful of Aaliyah’s arousal. Then she’s leaning back. Swallowing. Answering, “Mmm… Yeah…”

“Fuck…” Aaliyah gasps. She grabs Cruz’s head. Pulls her close. Starts thrusting her hips. 

Cruz allows it. Hands moving from Aaliyah’s hips to her ass. Gripping her hard. Helping her grind. Not caring that the backs of her hands are slamming into the boulder on each backwards motion of Aaliyah’s hips. Not caring that her knees are burning. Shells and pebbles digging into her skin. She’s had worse. Much worse. Cigarette burns and extension cord lashings and 270 pounds of muscle resting on her back while pinning her to the ground in a bear hug. This type of pain is nothing by comparison. And it’s also working for her. Making her cunt throb. Ache for her own release. She doesn’t care about that either. Aaliyah’s pleasure is her mission now. A mission she’ll happily complete. Soon. Too. Given the way Aaliyah is beginning to tremble as Cruz’s tongue circles over her clit. Cruz continues those circles. Waiting until Aaliyah is gasping above her. Then she sucks Aaliyah’s clit into her mouth. Changes to an up and down motion. Aaliyah screams. A loud, short, "Ahhhh!" Her body stills for a long moment. Then she’s falling back against the boulder. Trembling. Arousal dripping from her hole. Covering Cruz’s chin. She keeps sucking until Aaliyah taps on her head. Croaks out, “Too much.”

Cruz leans back. Pulls her hands free. Wipes her mouth. Eyes dragging over Aaliyah’s body. Her cunt still dripping and swollen. Her legs shaking. Her stomach and breasts covered by her shirt and bikini. Cruz pouts. Wishes she’d stripped Aaliyah naked before dropping to her knees so she could gaze at her spectacular breasts. There will be time for that. Imminently. She moves her eyes higher. Finding Aaliyah’s face. She’s panting. Lips parted. Eyes wide. Pupils black. Sweat collecting at her temples. She brings her left hand to Cruz’s chin. Pulls. Whispering, “Come here.”

Cruz puts her hands on the ground. Pushes herself up. Gingerly. Her legs stiff from kneeling. She straightens up. Steps forward. Bends down. Finds Aaliyah’s lips. Kisses her. Hard. She lets Aaliyah take control after a moment. Stays still as Aaliyah licks her cheeks and chin and lips. Moaning as she gets a taste of herself. Then their tongues are tangling again. Cruz’s hands go back to Aaliyah’s ass. Pulling her close. Her right hand goes to Aaliyah’s stomach. Begins to slide down. Then she remembers where they are. Where that hand was. Pressing against the beach as she got to her feet. She steps away. Waves her dirty hand. “We should… uhh…”

“Yeah…” Aaliyah nods. “Yeah…” 

Cruz turns around. Walks to the water. Bends down to let the surf carry the sand on her hands away. She stands up. Spins back around. Aaliyah has gotten her clothes in order. She holds out her hand. Cruz takes it. Leads her back to their temporary home. 

The house is dark when they arrive. Cruz finds a light switch by the entrance. Flips it on. Hears the door close and the deadbolt turning as she wipes her sandy feet on the rug by the entrance. She walks into the kitchen. Washes her hands with soap and clean water. Calling out, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” Aaliyah yells back. 

Cruz shuts off the tap. Grabs the dish towel. Starts drying her hands as she turns around. Spots Aaliyah reaching for the string on the blinds behind the couch. She gets them shut. Walks to the blinds on the windows to Cruz’s left. “What are our options?”

“Uhhh…” Cruz starts. Frowning. “Not sure. I haven’t looked too closely at what my team bought us.”

“Hmm…” Aaliyah hums. Back to Cruz as she finishes her task. Then she’s spinning around. They make eye contact. There’s a gleam in Aaliyah’s eyes. Like she’s ready to tell Cruz that all she wants for dinner is pussy. But that needs to wait. They need to have a proper meal. Maintain their energy so they don’t tap out early tonight.

Cruz gestures toward Aaliyah's sand covered legs and feet, “You’re sandy. Go clean up. I’ll fix us something.”

“Alright.” Aaliyah nods. She steps forward. Toward Cruz. Then stops. Lets out a small laugh. Changes course. Walking to the spiral staircase. 

Cruz watches her ascend. Then she spins around. Opens the fridge. Begins browsing their options. Starts cackling. The bottom row of the fridge is devoted entirely to beer. Mahou. Clasica. There are two bottles of ketchup. A package of chicken cutlets. A carton of eggs. A jar of pickles. A bottle of orange juice. A carton of milk. A twelve pack of Fanta. Goat cheese. Vanilla flan. Two avocados. A nine pack of chocolate muffins. She pokes at the muffins. Frowns. Wondering why the hell they are in the fridge. She shuts the door. Shaking her head. Two Cups must have been on shopping duty or maybe her team fucking with her again. Watching her on a video feed as she stares at their shopping choices. Laughing. Slapping each other on the back. High fiving. Delighted by the curveball they’ve thrown her. 

She huffs. Opens the cabinets. Finds two loaves of fresh bread. Nutella. A package of Obleas Para Helados. A box of breadcrumbs. Olive oil. A box of penne pasta. No spices. Not even salt and pepper. She closes the cabinet. Bangs her head against it. Repeatedly. Cursing Two Cups or whoever is responsible for the spice oversight. She stops after a moment. Coming to terms with the fact that she won’t be able to impress Aaliyah with her cooking skills tonight. That the best she can hope for is to prepare something that won’t taste too horrific. 

She opens the cabinet. Pulls out the box of pasta, the breadcrumbs, and the olive oil. Fills a pot with water for the penne. Sets it on the stove and turns the burner on to heat. She gets a frying pan out. Sets it on a different burner. Covers the bottom with olive oil. Turns the burner on. She quickly breads the chicken cutlets. Fries them in the olive oil. Cooks the pasta. Drains it and puts it back into the pot.

Aaliyah returns as she’s slicing goat cheese for the noodles. Creeping up behind her. Pulling her into a hug. Cruz melts. Has to set the knife down. Close her eyes. Savor the feeling of Aaliyah holding her like this. Aaliyah pulls away too soon for Cruz’s liking. Murmuring something about setting the table. 

Cruz hears her shuffling about as she finishes the pasta. Turning the burner back on. Stirring in the goat cheese until the pasta is covered in a nice creamy sauce. She lets the pot stay on the burner. Grabs a paper towel. Begins blotting the excess grease off their makeshift chicken fingers. Hears the fridge open. Hears Aaliyah laugh. Turns to look at her. 

“Is this how your CIA eats?” Aaliyah asks. Pointing inside the fridge. 

“Some of us.” Cruz answers. Chuckling as she balls the paper towel up and throws it in the trash can below the sink. “We can upgrade our selection tomorrow. Assuming we’ll be stuck here for another full day.”

Aaliyah shuts the fridge. Her voice incredulous as she asks, “You really don’t know?”

Cruz shuts the cabinet. Turns to meet Aaliyah’s eyes. “I don’t. But I promise that I will tell you the second that I do.”

Aaliyah gives her a small nod and a smile. Then she’s opening the fridge. Bending down. Calling out, “You want beer or milk or Fanta or orange jui—?”

“Beer.” Cruz answers before Aaliyah can finish the question. Because she could really use a drink after the last few days she’s had and because milk or an orange flavored beverage would be disgusting with what she’s prepared for dinner. 

They move to the table. Eat. Slathering ketchup all over their chicken to make it edible. Cruz using so much that Aaliyah makes a joke about that being the reason her team purchased two bottles. Cruz laughs. Smiles. Blushes. Unused to this kind of gentle, affectionate teasing. Loving it. They sit at the table after their plates are empty. Sipping a second round of beers. Chatting about food. Cooking. Aaliyah confesses that she’s almost worthless in the kitchen. Can handle breakfast ok by herself, but she’s always had someone to make her other meals. She’s thrilled to learn that Cruz knows how to cook. Though Cruz holds back the reason for her knowledge. Needing to prepare meals for herself and her brothers while her mother was at work. Long hours working a grill at a burger joint. She’ll share that information with Aaliyah. One day. Probably soon. But now doesn’t feel like the time for it.

Aaliyah sends her upstairs once they finish their second round of drinks. Tells her to get the sand off her legs so that she doesn’t bring it into their bed. Cruz laughs. Follows orders. Heads upstairs to make sure she’s sand free. She changes her clothes again. Putting on a clean pair of athletic shorts and a fresh tank top. Not bothering with a bra or underwear. She returns to the living room. Finds Aaliyah on the couch. Newspaper on her lap. Cruz sits down beside her. Takes note of what Aaliyah is reading. The article about her abduction. She throws it onto the coffee table after a second. Growls. “Like my father will buy that.”

Cruz hums. Puts her hand on Aaliyah’s thigh. “It’s more important that other people buy it. That they don’t suspect CIA involvement. Because if that happens then–”

“You could cut your losses and let them capture me.” Aaliyah finishes.

Cruz finds Aaliyah’s hand. Clasps it in her own. Gives it a squeeze. Then she’s pulling. Urging Aaliyah to cuddle into her side. “I won’t let that happen.”

Aaliyah snorts. “You’d go against your government for me?”

“I already have…” Cruz shrugs, “...and I’ll do it again. Easily.”

Aaliyah sighs. Presses a kiss to Cruz’s shoulder. Then she’s tilting her head. Resting her cheek against the same spot. They sit there. Silently. A comfortable silence. The air is clear between them now. So there’s no heaviness. No tension. Cruz’s arousal has faded. She’s feeling content. Happy. At peace. She could get used to this feeling. Used to end of the day cuddles with Aaliyah on the couch. Prays that there will be more nights like this in their future. Her eyes close. She begins to doze. Jolts back into awareness when she hears Aaliyah’s voice. Soft. Uncertain, “Who’s Bobby?”

“Bobby?” Cruz repeats. Dumbly. Mind not yet functioning properly.

“There was a note on the bed.” Aaliyah explains. “Something about an apology.” 

“Oh…” Cruz exhales. She sits up. Extracting herself from Aaliyah’s embrace. Turning to face her. “So…” She winces. Runs her right hand through her hair. Realizing that the air between them hasn’t been fully cleared yet. 

Aaliyah shifts on the couch. Pulling her legs onto the cushion. Crossing them. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No.” Cruz answers. “Probably not. But I’m done lying to you, so I’ll answer if you want.”

Aaliyah takes a moment to consider. Then she’s nodding, “I do. Yes. Tell me.”

Cruz closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. Bracing herself for another difficult conversation. Then she’s opening her eyes. Admitting, “I had a transponder on or near me when I was with you. Meaning so–”

“Someone was listening to us.” Aaliyah interjects. 

“Yeah.” Cruz confirms. Grimacing.

“And listening to us in the hotel room?” Aaliyah adds. Brows furrowed. 

“Yup.” Cruz confirms with another grimace. 

Aaliyah blows out a loud puff of air. She blinks a few times. Eyes moving away from Cruz’s face. Then whipping right back after a moment. Her tone alarmed, “And you knew this?”

Cruz feels so much guilt and shame at this moment that she thinks she might die. She gives a half second thought to running away. Immediately rejects that notion. Because she wants Aaliyah in her life more than an escape from these horrendous feelings that are overwhelming her. Feelings that she deserves. And this is just the start. She’s told Aaliyah countless lies. They’ve barely covered all of them. So she needs to get used to the feeling. Keep her chin up. Continue confessing her crimes. Because that’s the only way they will truly make it past her deception. She swallows. Answers firmly. “Yeah.”

Aaliyah blows out another loud puff of air. She scrunches her nose. Plucks at her shorts. Then finds Cruz’s eyes. Asking rhetorically, “And you didn’t say anything?”

Cruz sighs. Reaches out. Covering Aaliyah’s hand. Pressing it flat against her thigh. It’s a risk. Touching her as they have another difficult conversation, but Cruz needs the touch. Figures Aaliyah can shake her hand free if she’s too angry for contact. But Aaliyah accepts it. Turning her hand over so that Cruz can clasp it. Cruz smiles. Offers the best explanation she can muster, “I couldn’t tell you. Not without blowing the mission and losing you. That doesn’t justify what I did. But it’s why I did it…” She pauses. Grits her teeth. Thinking back to that night. Where her mind was. Not on the mission. She chuckles humorlessly. Squeezes Aaliyah’s hand. Adding, “And honestly I forgot all about the surveillance pretty soon after we started. I tuned all of that out. All I could think about was you and what you were making me feel and how much I wanted to make you feel good and–”

“So,” Aaliyah interrupts, “when you said earlier that you went downstairs, you mean you went to a room where the people were listening to us?”

“Just one at that particular time. Yeah.” Cruz nods. “And he feels bad about it. Said it wasn’t fun for him.” 

Aaliyah hums. Stares at Cruz. She’s upset, but not ‘storm out of the house and cry on the beach for hours’ upset like she was earlier. Cruz decides to bring them back to the subject that started this conversation. The note that Bobby left in the dresser drawer. “Bobby leads the team. She would have gone over the transcription from that night. Seen what we talked about. So that’s what her note was referring to.”

Aaliyah squints. Shakes her head. “I’m not following.”

Cruz grins. Asks a question she probably doesn’t need to ask, “Did you open the drawer?”

“The drawer?” Aaliyah repeats. Befuddlement growing. 

“That’s a ‘no,’ then.” Cruz laughs. “Bobby’s gay. She bought us a little present as an apology for violating our privacy.”

Aaliyah remains lost. Wiggling her head from side to side. Frowning. “A little present?”

Cruz pulls her hand free from Aaliyah’s. Brings her index finger to Aaliyah’s knee. Drags it up toward the hem of her shorts. “Well, maybe not a little present.” 

Cruz can see the moment that Aaliyah begins to comprehend her words. Her eyes widen. She inhales. Slowly. Deeply. Then she’s exhaling a breathless, “Oh…” 

“We could use it. If you want.” Cruz offers. Fingers drumming on Aaliyah’s thigh. “But if you need time to deal with what I just told you, then that’s ok. I can sleep downstairs tonight.”

“No.” Aaliyah covers Cruz’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. We will sleep together.” 

Cruz wasn’t expecting that answer. She must make a weird face because Aaliyah squeezes her hand. Chuckles. Continues, “I’ve lived my entire life under surveillance. I don’t think that’s the first time someone heard me. I’m angry. But I don’t need space. Just you.”

Cruz’s heart flutters at Aaliyah’s last words. Then she winces. Mind processing the ones that came before that sweet sentiment. She brings her left hand to Aaliyah’s cheek. Brushes her thumb over Aaliyah’s jaw. “I’m sorry you've had to live like that.”

Aaliyah shrugs. Her eyes move away. Landing somewhere on the floor behind Cruz. “It’s over now. I hope. Unless your CIA intends to surveil me relentlessly.”

"No... Nobody is listening to us now." Cruz offers. "They haven't been since I left your hotel room in New York. Signal was jammed at the villa, so I didn't even go in with a transponder. Meaning all our conversations there and during our escape have been private. And they should stay that way. You aren’t useful to them if you no longer have contact with your family.”

Aaliyah hums. Lifts her eyes. “I won’t, will I? Ever again.” She says it curiously. Like she’s having this thought for the first time.

“Are you ok with that?” Cruz asks. Thumb brushing over Aaliyah’s cheek. 

“Yes.” Aaliyah answers. She exhales. Lets out a small laugh. “I think I am.” 

They fall silent again. Staring at each other. There are words Cruz could say. About her own family. How she’s down to one living known relative. How she’ll never speak to him again. How that makes her feel. But she swallows those words back. Saving them for another night. She drops her hand from Aaliyah’s face. Gestures toward the stairs, “Do you want to go up?”

“Yes!” Aaliyah half shouts. A big smile spreading across her face. She leaps to her feet. Grabs Cruz’s hand. Tugs her toward the spiral staircase. They ascend. Cruz can’t help herself. Eyes going to Aaliyah’s ass. Her cunt begins throbbing. The embers of her earlier arousal roaring back to life. Aaliyah seems just as ready to go. Almost sprinting to the bed. Taking a seat on the edge. She pouts when Cruz walks past her. Yelling out, “Where are you going?”

Cruz laughs. Amused by Aaliyah’s exasperated tone. But she doesn’t break stride. Answering once she’s at the windows, “To close the blinds.”

“Leave them.” Aaliyah orders. She sounds breathless now. Desperate. Like she was that day in the dressing room when she told Cruz to ‘come here.’

Cruz drops the string. Turns. Aaliyah has moved. She’s on the bed now. Resting on her knees. Cruz meets her gaze. Asks, “You’re sure?”

“We have enough light from the moon. Beach is deserted. Nobody can see.” Aaliyah explains. Then she’s smirking. Pointing toward the window, “And I want you to take me there later. From behind.”

“From be–” Cruz can’t complete the word. Mind breaking at the thought of fucking Aaliyah like that. She hears delighted laughter. Watches as Aaliyah climbs off the bed and creeps toward her. Grabbing her by the front of her tank top. Pulling her close. Then they’re kissing. Frantically. Sloppily. Just like those first few kisses they shared in that New York hotel room. She feels Aaliyah’s hands everywhere. Her face and hair and ass and tits. Then they’re on her tank top. Lifting. They break the kiss long enough to get it up and over Cruz’s head. Then they’re crashing back together. Aaliyah’s hands going right to her breasts. Palming them. Making Cruz whimper. Making her legs shake. She has to push Aaliyah away after a moment. Needing to get them to the bed before her legs actually buckle and she crumbles to the ground. Aaliyah seems to understand. Walking backwards. Sitting down on the edge of the bed. Stripping off her shirt. She also went braless this evening. The action revealing her tits to Cruz’s hungry gaze. Cruz whimpers. Gets her feet moving. Comes to a stop in front of Aaliyah. Brings her right hand to Aaliyah’s shoulder. Ready to brace herself against it as she climbs into Aaliyah’s lap. But Aaliyah makes a clicking noise with her tongue. Puts her hands on Cruz’s stomach. Whispering, “Shorts off first.”

Cruz tries to give Aaliyah her verbal consent. But her ‘yes’ gets caught in her throat. So she nods. Lets Aaliyah push her shorts down. Enjoying the way she gasps and her eyes narrow when she sees that Cruz isn’t wearing anything underneath. She leans forward. Seemingly intent on using her mouth. Cruz pushes her back. Wanting Aaliyah's tongue, but wanting her fingers more. “Later.” She offers. Voice strained. Speech still difficult. 

Aaliyah smiles. Leans back. Pats her thighs. Cruz puts her hands back on Aaliyah’s shoulders. Climbs into her lap. Pressing forward until her cunt meets Aaliyah’s abs. She moans at the contact. Hears Aaliyah let out a muffled, ‘Fuck.’ Then there’s a hand on her right cheek. Pulling her down. Their lips meet. Furiously. Passionately. Cruz begins rolling her hips. She’s desperate. Went to bed last night painfully wet because she refused Aaliyah’s touch toward the end of their time together. Then tongued her out on the beach this evening without reciprocation. She needs her own release now. Might die if she doesn’t get it. She rips her mouth away from Aaliyah’s. Begs, “Fuck me.” 

Aaliyah doesn’t waste another second. Her right hand slides between their bodies. Then she’s moving it down. Finding Cruz’s clit. Brushing over it with her fingers. She pushes down further. Parting Cruz’s folds. Swirls a finger around Cruz’s entrance. Cruz’s eyes shut. She tips her head back. Whimpers. Then whines when the touch moves away. She hears a chuckle. Opens her eyes. Glances down. Finds Aaliyah grinning up at her. “Not like this. On your back.”

Cruz nods. Rolls to the side. Crawls up the bed and lies down. Head on a pillow. She watches as Aaliyah takes off her shorts and underwear. Then she’s climbing onto the bed. Moving until she’s hovering over Cruz. Right hand resting on Cruz’s stomach. 

Cruz reaches out. Gets a firm grip on Aaliyah’s back. Lifts her hips and whines a pathetic sounding, “Please.” 

Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. She bites her bottom lip. Slides her hand down further. Cruz gasps when she feels fingers brushing her clit. Has to shut her eyes again when Aaliyah’s fingers reach her entrance and push inside. She moans. Rocks her hips. Pulls Aaliyah down. Wanting to feel more of her. Aaliyah complies. Dropping down until Cruz can feel wet heat against her leg and hard nipples against her own. She moans. Hears an echoing noise from Aaliyah. Then Aaliyah’s fingers are moving. In and out. Fast. Hard. Curling in just the right way. Cruz starts panting. Rolling her hips. Matching Aaliyah’s rhythm. Feels lips pressing gentle kisses to her forehead and cheeks. Hears Aaliyah’s words of encouragement. “Yes… Yes… Cruz…” 

She whimpers. Her heart seizes. Her cunt clenches. The sound of her name—her real name—coming from Aaliyah’s lips pushes her higher. She hears it again, “Cruz… Cruz…” Aaliyah’s voice is low, husky, reverent. Then it turns pleading, “Look at me… Look at me….” 

Cruz gets her eyes open. Needing to see Aaliyah just as much as Aaliyah needs to see her. She turns her head. Meets Aaliyah’s gaze. Holds it this time. She hadn’t in New York the last time Aaliyah made this request while fucking her. Their night together was ending. She couldn’t keep the outside world at bay. Thoughts about her mission invading her mind. Forcing feelings of pain and guilt to intrude on her pleasure. So she’d fallen forward that night. Shut her eyes. Tried to kiss Aaliyah. But even that hadn’t worked. Her orgasm arriving. Her head turning away as she panted and gasped her pleasure. But there’s no guilt tonight. No pain. There’s worry about what lies ahead. Fear about whether forgiveness is actually within her reach. But Aaliyah knows who she is sleeping with. Knows the reason that brought them together in this bed. So Cruz is able to hold their gaze. Able to let Aaliyah see into her mind. Read her emotions. Love. Pleasure. 

“That’s it… Yes…” Aaliyah whispers. Her fingers curl inside Cruz’s cunt. Her thumb brushes Cruz’s clit. 

The sensation is too much. Cruz has to concede defeat. Shutting her eyes. Embracing the pleasure that’s rushing through her body. Waves of it. Rolling. Spreading. Receding. She lies there. Panting. Feels Aaliyah’s lips pressing against her cheek. Hears her voice. “Beautiful… So beautiful…” 

It’s not the first time Aaliyah has said that word to her. But it’s the first time Aaliyah has said it to her in a sexual situation. She swallows. Feels her lips quivering. Tears begin welling in her eyes. Because it’s not a word she’s been comfortable hearing in a long time. Men would whisper it to her as she danced. But they’d be leering at her. Throwing money at her feet. Urging her to come closer so they could push bills into her g-string. Paw at her. She would endure their touches. Knew it was the only way to pay the bills. But it cheapened the word. Made her feel ugly. Then she met Edgar. Spent a long two years in his bed. He’d whisper it to her as they fucked. Then his mood would change. He’d pull her hair. Call her a slut. Slap her around. She endured. Thinking she had no other option. Feeling ugly. Hideous. Worthless.

She feels a tear roll down her cheek. Feels a thumb brush it away. Then Aaliyah’s lips are pressing against hers. “Shhh… You’re ok…” 

Cruz sniffles. Nods. Gets her eyes open. Rolls onto her side. Aaliyah adjusts accordingly. Scooting back into a mirroring position. Her right hand going to Cruz’s cheek. Brushing away another tear. “What’s the matter?”

Cruz inhales. Considers how to answer. Wanting to be honest, but not wanting to get too deep into her trauma tonight. Aaliyah seems to sense her hesitancy. “Your ex?”

“Yeah.” Cruz whispers. She brings her left hand to Aaliyah’s face. Pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can we save talking about him for another night?” 

“Of course.” Aaliyah replies.

“Good.” Cruz sighs. “Good.” She leans forward then. Finds Aaliyah’s lips. Kisses her with everything she has. Aaliyah returns the kiss with a matching passion. 

The mood shifts. Cruz’s tears dry. Her hands wander. Up and down Aaliyah’s backside. Her thighs and ass and lats and shoulders. She’s strong. Soft. Smooth. Wet. So wet. Arousal leaking all over Cruz’s thigh. She’s whimpering too now. The noise vibrating in Cruz’s mouth with every sweep of her tongue. Cruz should pull away. Ask Aaliyah if she wants to get fucked. But she can’t bring herself to move and break this perfect moment. It’s Aaliyah who brings an end to their kiss. Turning her head. Dropping a hand to Cruz’s chest and pushing her back. She doesn’t speak for a moment. Panting. Trying to catch her breath. Then she’s asking. “Which drawer?” 

Cruz lifts her chin. “Behind you.” 

Aaliyah rolls over. Opens the drawer. Lets out a breathless, “Fuck.”

Cruz chuckles. Pushes herself up into a sitting position. Murmurs, “I should wash it before we use it.” She begins to get out of bed. Feels a hand on her arm. Pulling her back. 

“No. Stay.” Aaliyah orders. “Get the harness on. I’ll deal with it.” 

“Ok.” Cruz agrees. 

Aaliyah smiles. Leans over. Presses a quick kiss to her lips. Then she’s hopping out of bed. Grabbing the harness and handing it to Cruz. Grabbing the box with the dildo and walking into the bathroom. 

Cruz climbs out of bed. Steps into the harness. It’s leather. Adjustable. Meaning Aaliyah will get to have a turn with it if she wants. Cruz’s cunt clenches at the thought. Hoping that Aaliyah wants that. Not tonight. But sometime later. When they make it to America. When the dust settles. If it settles. She takes a deep breath. Wills herself to push her fear and anxiety away. They’re useful emotions—there to remind you to pay attention and think ahead so you don’t run into danger or make a decision that has catastrophic consequences—but only in small doses. If they stay, then they slow you down. Make you hesitant to move or act. Make you a sitting duck for a sniper or bomb. Make you focus on the negative instead of positive. Make you hurt before you need to. Miss out on joy. Fun. Like the fun she’s about to have fucking Aaliyah with the strap. Watching it go in and out of her cunt. Watching her breasts bounce from the force of Cruz’s thrusts. Wat–

Aaliyah steps into view. Interrupting Cruz’s thoughts. She’s breathtakingly gorgeous. Hard nipples. Strong shoulders. She’s pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail. Moonlight hitting her body. Lighting up her jewelry. Earrings. Her ring is gone. Taken off sometime yesterday. She guesses it was from Ehsan. Wonders if the earrings are too. But she won’t ask about that. Doesn’t want to bring Aaliyah’s ex into the room so soon after Edgar’s unfortunate intrusion. She works her gaze lower. Spots the dildo in Aaliyah’s hand. It’s purple. On the thicker side. Curved. She gets her feet moving. Stepping toward Aaliyah. Hears a ‘tsk’ as Aaliyah clicks her tongue. Then Aaliyah is pointing toward the bed. “Climb on. Lean against the headboard.” 

Cruz follows orders like the good soldier she is. Climbing onto the bed. Pulling a pillow free from underneath the comforter and resting it against the headboard. Then she’s sitting down. Leaning against it. Watching as Aaliyah gets onto the bed and shuffles up until she’s kneeling to Cruz’s right.  

“Spread your legs.” Aaliyah orders. Patting Cruz on her thigh. 

Cruz spreads her legs. Aaliyah reaches down. Slots the dildo into the harness. Clasps it into place. Then she’s throwing a leg over Cruz’s lap. Straddling her. Moving in close enough that the dildo presses up and into Cruz’s stomach. 

Cruz brings her hands to Aaliyah’s back. Rests them there. Her touch light. Her eyes go to Aaliyah’s face. She lifts an eyebrow. Silently asking Aaliyah what she wants to do. Aaliyah answers by leaning down. Finding Cruz’s lips. They begin kissing. Softly at first. Hesitantly. Pulling away every few moments to look at each other. Smile. Giggle. A sign of nerves. For both of them. Cruz knows where hers come from. She’s experienced with this. Purchasing a strap-on shortly after she finished basic training. She got plenty of use out of it. Blowing off steam with women who’d hang in the bars around base looking for fun with someone in uniform. Those encounters were distant. Rough. Free from emotion. 

What’s about to happen here is much different. This will be the first time she fucks someone she loves. She wants to do it correctly. Wants to show Aaliyah how good it can be. And that has her hesitating. Waiting. For Aaliyah to make the next move. She does. Eventually. After their kisses deepen and hands start wandering and hips start rolling. She breaks away from Cruz’s mouth. Leans to her left. Pulls out the bottle of lube. Returns to her original position. Opens the lube. Squirts some onto her hand. Begins working it up and down the dildo.

Cruz watches. Panting. Bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her hands are on Aaliyah’s hips. Nails digging into her skin. She’s on the verge of losing control now. Wanting nothing more than to push the strap deep inside Aaliyah’s cunt. Fuck her for hours. Maybe they can have that. If not tonight, then another night. Cruz showing off her Marine stamina. Pounding Aaliyah relentlessly to orgasm after orgasm. 

Cruz drags her eyes back to Aaliyah’s face. Sees her lips curled into a smirk. An indication that she knows what the sight is doing to Cruz. That’s probably why she keeps working her hand long after she’s covered the toy with lube. But the teasing can only go on for so long. She pulls her hand away. Moves it to Cruz’s shoulder. Cruz flinches at the feeling. Wet. Slick. Aaliyah laughs. Raises herself up. Uses her left hand to guide the toy to her entrance. She pauses there. Meets Cruz’s eyes. “Ready?”

“God, yes…” Cruz exhales. 

Aaliyah blows out a big puff of air. Then she’s lowering herself. Slowly. Her eyelids fluttering. Her mouth parting. She bottoms out. Stays there. Panting. Cruz slides her hands up and down Aaliyah’s back. Whispers, “Are you ok?”

“Mmm… Yeah.” Aaliyah nods. Her eyes open. “It’s bigger than…” Aaliyah cuts off. Winces. From her words rather than the stretch. 

Cruz snorts. Leans forward to press a kiss to Aaliyah’s cheek. Mind briefly going back to her encounter with Ehsan the other day. The way he spoke about sex with Aaliyah. The way he insulted them both. It’s wrong, but she’s feeling cocky. Smug. Loving that she literally has a bigger dick than the man Aaliyah almost married. She presses a few more kisses to Aaliyah’s cheek. Giving herself time to erase any signs of her smugness. Not wanting Aaliyah to see them. Then she pulls away. Spots an embarrassed smile on Aaliyah’s face. She leans forward. Kisses the smile. A quick peck. Then another one and another one.

Aaliyah’s hands move to her face. Hold her steady. Then Aaliyah’s tongue is pushing into her mouth. Cruz lets it happen. Follows Aaliyah’s lead. Moans when she feels Aaliyah pushing up. Hears an echoing moan as Aaliyah slides down. They go slow to start. Tongues tangling. Aaliyah moving up and down. Adjusting to the thickness and length. Then they pick up speed. Aaliyah breaking away from the kiss. Dropping her hands from Cruz’s face. Leaning back. Starting to bounce up and down vigorously enough that her breasts shake. Cruz swallows. Taking in the vision before her. It’s what she wanted that evening in their hotel room. Aaliyah riding her strap. It was good that night with just her fingers. She loves doing that to women. Loves getting deep inside. Feeling how wet they are. How tight. She can't feel any of that with the strap-on. But having both hands free means she can fuck women harder. Can make them scream louder. And that’s worth the loss in sensation. 

She starts taking advantage of that extra strength now. Wresting some control from Aaliyah. Lifting her hips. Pulling Aaliyah down with both hands to meet her thrusts. Aaliyah lets out a scream. She tips forward. Face going to Cruz’s neck. Teeth biting down hard. Cruz hisses. Keeps working her hips. Whimpers when Aaliyah pulls away. Head leaning back. Eyes shut. Tits right in Cruz’s face. Cruz can’t resist. Leaning forward. Sucking a nipple into her mouth. 

“Ohhhhh….” Aaliyah gasps. Her hips falter. Her hands go to Cruz’s shoulders. Nails digging into her skin. Giving her more of that delicious pain. 

She scrapes her teeth over Aaliyah’s nipple. Earns a moan. Feels arousal dripping onto her thighs. Becomes aware of her own need. Cunt clenching around nothing. She feels desperate again. This time for Aaliyah’s orgasm. Needing to make Aaliyah feel good. Needing to watch Aaliyah’s beauty as she shakes and trembles and moans. She releases Aaliyah’s nipple. Leans back. Brings her right hand to Aaliyah’s stomach. Whispers, “Are you ready to come?”

“Yes… Yes…” Aaliyah gasps. Opening her eyes and tilting her head to meet Cruz's gaze. 

Cruz grins. Slides her hand down. Starts brushing over Aaliyah’s clit. Watching Aaliyah’s face. She exhales. A single loud burst of air. Her hips stutter. A soft, “Oh,” falls from her lips. Then her eyes are shutting. Squeezing tight. Her head tips back. Cruz drags her eyes lower. Watching as Aaliyah’s body starts shaking. Her abs begin rippling. More arousal leaks out. Running down the sides of Cruz’s thighs. Puddling on the bed.

Cruz gasps. Curses softly, “Fuck.” She stops thrusting. Lets Aaliyah work herself through her pleasure. Aaliyah stops moving after a few seconds. Tips forward. Face resting against Cruz’s neck. Cruz holds her close. Shuts her own eyes. Letting her other senses dominate. Relishing the way Aaliyah feels in her lap. The way she smells. Sex. Sweat. Milk and honey body wash. Two Cups did alright with that selection at least. She chuckles. Loudly. Too loudly. 

Aaliyah moves. Pulling back. Curious look on her face. “What was that about?”

Cruz leans up. Brushes her nose against Aaliyah’s. Smiling sheepishly as she answers, “You smell good.” 

Aaliyah lets out an amused huff. Puts her hand on Cruz’s sternum and pushes her away. “So you laughed?”

Cruz’s smile grows. She brings her right hand to Aaliyah’s side. Starts ghosting her fingers over Aaliyah’s ribs as she clarifies her answer, “I was thinking about how the body wash and shampoo got into the shower.”

Aaliyah scrunches her nose. “Oh.” Her eyes move from side to side. Then she’s tilting her head, “That’s what you think about when you’re inside me?” 

Cruz groans. Tips forward. Starts laughing with her face pressed against Aaliyah’s shoulder. Stays there as she murmurs her half-hearted defense, “For one brief moment, yes. Not the entire time though.”

She hears Aaliyah laughing. Feels Aaliyah’s fingers carding through her hair. Then Aaliyah is pushing her up. Smiling, “No? What else were you thinking about?” She bites her lip when she’s finished speaking. Lifts an eyebrow. It’s a sultry expression. Suggestive.

Cruz smirks. Leans up. Whispers into Aaliyah’s ear. “How I want to get you on your back. Fuck you again. Make you scream.” It’s not a lie. Not completely. Rather a synthesis of the thoughts that were running through Cruz’s head as they fucked. So she feels fine saying those words. And they have their desired effect. 

Aaliyah whimpers. Rolls her hips. Pleads, “Do it. Fuck me again. Make me scream.” 

Cruz grins. Gathers Aaliyah in her arms. Flips them over without pulling out. She gets Aaliyah settled comfortably on a pillow. Then she pushes up on her forearms. Pulls her hips back. Snaps them forward. Not too hard. Wanting to make sure that Aaliyah really is ready to go again. She is. Gasping. Clawing at Cruz’s back. Chanting, “Fuck me… Fuck me…”

So Cruz does. Pulling out. Slamming back inside. Hard. Fast. Relentlessly. She’s getting better friction on her clit from this position. Starts leaning into the sensation. Changing the angle of her thrusts to make it even better. Aaliyah catches on to what’s happening. Her hands going to Cruz’s ass. Tugging. Urging her to grind a bit every time she bottoms out. It’s not enough to come, but she’s fine with that. Continues doing it because Aaliyah seems to love it. Her eyes locked on the strap as it pushes deep inside her cunt. Her mouth parted. Her pupils blown. 

Cruz begins to sweat after a few wonderful minutes. Drops falling from her face. Landing on Aaliyah’s neck. Aaliyah doesn’t seem bothered. Might not even notice. But it makes Cruz grimace. She pulls out. Leans back on her heels. Grabs Aaliyah’s right leg. Begins lifting it up. Pauses when a look of confusion flashes across Aaliyah’s face. Cruz squints. Mouth ready to ask if this is a new position for Aaliyah. Mind stopping her at the last moment. Because she doesn’t want to think about Aaliyah’s past partners and it’s not a question that needs asking. Aaliyah’s confusion is answer enough. She lowers Aaliyah’s leg. Bends down. Presses a quick kiss to Aaliyah’s lips. Pulls away. Asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Aaliyah whispers. Breathlessly. 

Cruz smiles. Pushes herself upright. Leans back on her heels. Grabs Aaliyah’s right leg. Lifts it. Placing it over her shoulder. She does the same with Aaliyah’s left leg. Then she’s reaching down. Sliding her hands underneath Aaliyah’s ass. Lifting her up. She hears a gasp. Moves her gaze to Aaliyah’s face. Her eyes are wide. Her nostrils flaring from the heaviness of her breaths. Cruz grins. Brings her right hand to the dildo. Moves it to Aaliyah’s entrance. Puts her hand back on Aaliyah’s ass. Then she snaps her hips. Burying the strap inside Aaliyah’s cunt. Pulling a scream from Aaliyah’s lips. She withdraws. Thrusts back inside. Setting a blistering pace. Watches as Aaliyah’s head starts thrashing on the pillow. Her hands are flailing on the bed. Cruz is in deep now. Hitting Aaliyah’s g-spot on every thrust. It’s a good position. One she remembers enjoying. When she’d turn her mind off. Close her eyes. Focus on the sensations rather than the person producing them. She wonders how much better it would feel if it were Aaliyah doing this to her. She’d be able to stay present. Look at her as they fucked. Because she loves Aaliyah. Trusts her. 

Cruz’s heart is racing again. The emotions she’s feeling beginning to overwhelm her. She never though she’d have love. Never thought someone would view her as worthy or be willing to disregard her past. The stripping. Her brother’s death. The scars on her body. The ones in her mind. Aaliyah doesn’t know everything yet. There’s a chance she won’t react well when Cruz gives her the entire story. But she’s seen the scars and chosen to love Cruz in spite of them. And she’s learned the truth about Cruz’s identity and mission and chosen to stay and let Cruz work toward forgiveness. So maybe it will be ok. Maybe it won’t. But for now Cruz needs to believe that it will be. 

She gets control of her emotions. Thankful that Aaliyah is too drunk on pleasure to sense that she’d drifted. Focuses back on the woman below her. Watching her tits bounce. Her abs flex. She’s close again. Cruz decides to help her along. Reaching for Aaliyah’s right hand. Setting it on her stomach. Ordering, “Touch yourself for me.”

Aaliyah whimpers. Her eyes open. She holds Cruz’s gaze as she slides her fingers to her clit. Then her eyes are shutting. Her head is tipping to the side. Her abs flex again. Stay flexed. Then they relax as the rest of her body starts trembling and she screams Cruz’s name loud enough that her team can probably hear it. Cruz grins at that thought. Because fucking Aaliyah so well that her shouts of pleasure can be heard down the street is entirely different from having someone eavesdrop on their entire encounter. She’d be ok with that type of voyeurism. Would happily endure their ribbing. Knowing it would be happening out of respect and maybe a little jealousy. 

Aaliyah’s orgasm begins to fade. Cruz slows her hips. Then stops. Lowers Aaliyah’s legs. Leans forward. Holds herself above Aaliyah. Strap still inside. Waiting to see what Aaliyah wants her to do. 

“Come here.” Aaliyah whispers. Grabbing Cruz’s left bicep. Tugging.

Cruz bends her elbows. Drops down. Weight resting on Aaliyah’s body. Face hovering just above Aaliyah’s. Taking in her gorgeous smile. Her twinkling eyes.

She feels hands on her cheeks. Then she’s getting pulled. Kissed. It’s a sweet kiss. Chaste. Loving. Aaliyah ends it after a moment. Their noses brush. Their eyes stay locked. “I love you.” Aaliyah whispers. It’s not the first time in her life that Cruz has heard those words from a romantic partner, but it’s the first time she’s believed them. She feels a burst of happiness inside her chest. Feels tears beginning to form. She tips to the side. Face landing against the pillow. Feels Aaliyah’s hands going to her back. Rubbing soothing strokes over her skin. Hears her cooing, “Shhh… Shhh… It’s going to be ok. You’re ok.” 

Cruz swallows. Uncertain about the meaning behind Aaliyah’s words. If she thinks Cruz is crying because she’s worried about what will happen after tonight. She’s not. But she won’t clarify. Yet. Still determined to save a conversation about her traumatic past for another time. She pushes herself up. Wipes her eyes. Hears a gasp below her. Glances down. Aaliyah’s eyes are focused on where their bodies are still joined. Cruz winces. Murmurs, “Sorry,” as she pulls out.

Aaliyah pouts. Grabs her hips. Stopping her from rolling over to the side. They stare at each other for a long while. Aaliyah scrutinizing her carefully. Cruz simply basking in Aaliyah’s beauty. Ready and willing to answer any question that Aaliyah asks. But she doesn’t ask anything. Her face relaxes. Then she’s sliding her fingers around and down. Finding Cruz’s entrance. Pushing inside with just the tips of her fingers. Gasping, “Fuck! So wet.”

“Mmmm…” Cruz moans her agreement. Rolls her hips. Trying to get Aaliyah to go all the way inside.

Aaliyah resists. Pulling her hand free. Bringing her fingers to her mouth. Making a show of licking Cruz’s wetness off them. Cruz whimpers. Thrusts her hips. Aaliyah’s eyes go back to the dildo. She pulls her hand free from her mouth. Asks, “Can you wait?”

“Yeah…” Cruz exhales. “You want more?”

Aaliyah bites her lip. Nods. Then she’s gesturing to her left. “Window. Then I want to eat you out until you tell me to stop.”

Cruz curses, “Fuck…” She blinks. Mind breaking. Then she’s pulling it together. Issuing her agreement to Aaliyah’s proposal, “Yeah… Ok…”

They get out of bed. Walk to the window. It spans nearly the entire length of the wall. The sea is right there. Waves crashing against the beach. Flickers of light from ships visible in the distance. Cruz only lets herself enjoy the view for a few seconds. Because she has a better view on offer. That of Aaliyah. Placing her hands on the glass. Spreading her legs. Angling her hips to push her ass out. 

Cruz swallows. Steps behind her. Hands going to Aaliyah’s ass. Rubbing over her smooth skin. She wants to give it a smack. See Aaliyah’s ass wobble. But that’s probably too much for tonight. So she resists. Choosing instead to grab the dildo and line it up with Aaliyah’s entrance. She brings both hands to Aaliyah’s hips once she has the tip inside. Then she pushes forward as she pulls Aaliyah back. Pauses once she’s bottomed out. Glances down. Taking in yet another spectacular view. Aaliyah’s ass pressed against her front. The base of the toy. Wet. Shiny.  

Cruz shudders. Withdraws. Snaps her hips forward. Earning herself a gasp and moan from Aaliyah. She sets an easy pace at first. Pulling Aaliyah’s hips back to meet her strokes. Their thighs begin slapping together. A smacking noise echoing through the room. One that’s accompanied by the sound of sweaty hands sliding across glass. Aaliyah seemingly unable to keep them in one place. The noises are hot. Ratcheting up Cruz’s arousal. But also a little funny. They start giggling after each squeaking noise. But they don’t stop. And it’s nice. Laughter. During sex. It’s fun. Comfortable. Cruz hopes it’s always like this. That there will be other nights. Together. Somewhere in America where they can go all night. Mixing intense, passionate rounds with ones that are filled with laughter. Because it’s intoxicating. The harmony she’s hearing. Aaliyah’s moans and gasps and giggles. She can’t imagine never hearing it again.

She leans forward. Breasts pressing into Aaliyah’s back. Needing to have more contact with Aaliyah as her mind ponders the possibility that this will be all they have together. She presses her lips to the center of Aaliyah’s neck. Slides her hands around to rest on Aaliyah’s stomach. Her thrusts slow. Turn shallow. Her hips barely moving back before she pushes them forward again. “I love you.” She whispers. Suddenly needing to say the words to Aaliyah again. “I love you.” 

Aaliyah whimpers. Her hands drop down from the glass. Cover Cruz’s. They stay there like that for a moment. Holding each other. Cruz gently fucking Aaliyah. The room now filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing and a faint squelching noise on every inward thrust. But then Aaliyah starts trembling in her arms. Moaning. Their emotional moment ends. Cruz pulls away. Moves her hands back to Aaliyah's hips. Orders, “Hands on the glass. Eyes on the water.”

She waits until Aaliyah complies. Then she pulls out. Snaps her hips forward. Starts fucking Aaliyah as hard as she can. It ends quickly after that. Aaliyah starts shouting her name. Begging, “I need.. I need…” Cruz knows what she needs. Reaching around. Thumbing Aaliyah’s clit. Triggering her release. Her hands slide down the glass again. Squeaking as they go. Neither of them laugh. Too focused on Aaliyah’s orgasm. It’s the longest of the night. Seeming to go on and on. Aaliyah falls forward when it ends. Almost headbutts the window. But Cruz reacts. Catching Aaliyah. Pulling her back. Holding her close. She presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s neck. Begins counting. Using the numbers as a way to help herself calm down and maintain control. Because she’s dangerously close to losing it. Grinding against Aaliyah’s ass until she reaches her own orgasm. Aaliyah might be ok with that. But Cruz would rather have Aaliyah’s mouth. So she counts. Steps back when she reaches 60. Sliding the dildo out of Aaliyah’s cunt. Taking the harness off. Hopes Aaliyah is recovered enough to reciprocate. Though she can take care of herself if Aaliyah needs more time.

Aaliyah would probably enjoy that. Watching Cruz touch her self. Cruz could talk too. Telling Aaliyah about that night after their FaceTime call. How she touched herself while thinking about Aaliyah's new bikini. Taking it off. Sucking on her nipples. Licking her abs. She shivers. Gets her feet moving. Walks backwards. Sits on the edge of the bed. Legs spread. Aaliyah has turned around by now. She’s staring at her. Hungrily. Cruz brings her fingers down. Slides them through her folds. Calls out, “Aaliyah…”

Aaliyah inhales sharply. Eyes locked on Cruz's fingers. Then she's storming across the room. Dropping to her knees. Throwing Cruz’s legs over her shoulders. She leans forward. Meets Cruz's gaze. Sticks her tongue out. Licks through Cruz's slit. Slowly. Cruz whimpers. Shuts her eyes. Brings her right hand to Aaliyah’s head. Starts rolling her hips. Mind completely at ease as she hands herself over to Aaliyah’s skilled tongue.

Cruz stirs. Brings a hand to her face. Wipes her eyes. Blinks them open. It’s dark in the room. Still night. She glances to her right. Aaliyah is fast asleep. Naked. Sleeping on her stomach. Goosebumps covering the skin of her back. Cruz slides out of bed. Reaches for the sheets. Pushes them up to cover Aaliyah. She opens the closet. Grabs a bathrobe. Puts it on. Descends the stairs. Finds the house just as they left it. Lights on. Blinds closed. Door locked. She opens the fridge. Pulls out a Fanta. Chugs half of it. Needing some sugar after all the hard work she just did. She cracks her neck. Walks to the kitchen table. Grabs her phone. Sees ‘Daddy’ on the lock screen. She sighs. Opens the message. Reads.

Daddy (11:19 pm): Departure tomorrow at 1400. We’ll debrief on the way. Asylum cleared. Stay put until we leave. 

Cruz types a response. Not giving a fuck that it’s the middle of the night. 

Zara (4:28 am): Roger that, ma’am

She presses send. Finishes her soda. Walks back upstairs. Brushes her teeth. Climbs into bed. She rolls over to Aaliyah’s side. Throws an arm over her back. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s shoulder. Aaliyah stirs. Shifts. Turning to face Cruz. Smiling sleepily at her.

Cruz leans forward. Kisses her. Softly. Sweetly. Then pulls away. Whispers, “We leave tomorrow at 2. Both of us. You’re in.”

“I’m…” Aaliyah starts. Brows furrowing. Then she’s gasping. Pulling Cruz into a big hug. Letting out an excited squeal. 

Cruz returns the embrace. Hears Aaliyah begin to sob quietly. Wonders if they’ll ever be able to go a day without at least one of them crying. But these are happy tears. Relieved tears. Cruz is certain. Because they are the same tears leaking out of her own eyes. She smiles. Laughs. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s cheek. Squeezes her tight. Mind going back to that night she sobbed in the Pendry hotel bed. How she lost her composure in front of Joe in a room two floors down. Wavered on completing her mission. How broken she felt. How hopeless. Now days later she’s reborn. Holding the love of her life in her arms. Staring down a future together. One of their own making. Their own choice.