The warm mug in my cold hands coupled with the hot coffee I was gulping down felt like a blanket of comfort wrapping around my overexerted body.

Dallas sat in a chair a few feet from me while I tiredly lounged cross-legged on the bed. I'd been eyeing him for the last hour since I'd finally stopped crying. He'd gone to make me some coffee in the other room while I'd cleaned up. My nose was still stuffy and my eyes were bloodshot, though. I looked like a train wreck. Dallas, on the other hand, still looked as dashing as ever.

I studied him, every feature, from the neatness of his haircut to the scuffmarks on his boots. He'd barely changed since the last time I'd seen him. He was four years older, sure, but his eyes were still as hypnotizing, if not more. His smile was still as breathtaking. I had yet to hear him laugh, but I was certain it was still that same melodic sound that could bring angels to their knees.

There were minimal differences in his appearance. His hair was cut shorter than I remembered. His muscles were more defined under his tight black shirt. What I remembered to be a shoulder tattoo that you could just see the edges of peeking out from his sleeve had been added onto. The black designs now reached down to his forearm and there was something incredibly alluring about that. Overall, the most noticeable change in Dallas was not in the way he looked, but the hardness in his once jovial eyes, and I wondered how rough the last four years had been on him. Had he been as heartbroken and plagued by nightmares as I was?

"Feeling any better?" He finally broke the near-deafening silence that'd encompassed the room for well over an hour, as it seemed that neither of us knew what to say to the other.

I met his gaze and managed a nod, though my still-racing heart would've probably said otherwise. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that both I.D.A. and A.R.T. would lie to me about Dallas's death. What reason could they have possibly had to put me through that literal living hell?

"Want some more?" He gestured to my half-empty mug and I shook my head.

"I don't want coffee, Dallas," I finally spoke, my voice sounding shaky and hoarse from crying for so long. "I want answers."

He breathed out long and heavy like he'd been holding in air for hours. His eyes were tired and pained, and I could tell it was fucking him up to see me again, too.

"I know you do," he said in a regretful tone and scooted his chair closer to where I sat. "Tell me what you want to know, Tali."

I wanted to know everything. But I didn't know where to begin in the mile-long list of questions that'd been brewing in my head since I'd woken up.

"Where have you been the last four years?" I decided to ask first.

I set my mug down on the nightstand and pulled a pillow into my lap, hugging it against my stomach where I was starting to feel an ache.

"I'm still with I.D.A." Dallas said, leaning back in his seat and stretching his legs out.

He watched me with cold, hard eyes, and I knew he was studying every detail of me the way I had been studying him.

"In Washington?" I scoffed, shocked at the thought that we could've crossed paths a million times and I'd never known.

He shook his head. "No. They more or less banished me from working in the States after... you know. I was transferred to the Israeli division near the embassy and I've been working there and in Melbourne and various European cities since."

"Do you know why A.R.T. told me you were dead?" I asked pointedly, biting at my tongue in anger.

How could Dallas be so fucking calm about this conversation? My blood was already starting to boil and we'd barely begun talking.

Then again, I remembered he always had been the more collected one between the two of us. I was a ticking time bomb and he was always the one to relax me back to sanity.

"I do," he nodded slowly and diverted his eyes away from mine.

How long had he known about this? The whole time, perhaps? Why hadn't I heard from him before now? Why hadn't he made sure I'd known the truth a long time ago? Surely, he hadn't wanted me to believe he was dead... right?

"I was privy to the details since the beginning." Dallas seemed to guess what I was thinking. "Your director and mine devised a plan to keep us separated. They said they thought it was for the best for both of us, though I know it was meant only to benefit I.D.A. and A.R.T. I was permanently denied contact with you. They thought our relationship was interfering with our work – never mind that it was illegal – and Bellucci witnessed how you reacted to shooting me. They assumed our relationship would become common knowledge amongst our enemies and they'd use it to get rid of both of us. You and I were a loose end our agencies needed to tie up, and rather than letting us go, they came up with this bullshit to permanently keep us separated. We're too valuable to them as individual agents."

"If they hated us being together that much, they could've just said that," I snapped. "Why put me through this hell for years and years? Why lie to me about something so fucking awful as you dying?"

I remembered Jordan and Bartley telling me I couldn't attend Dallas's funeral or visit his grave because they didn't want my enemies pinpointing a weakness in me to target. I was disgusted by their explanation, though I understood it at the time, but now I couldn't fathom why they hadn't simply told me that I wasn't allowed to have contact with Agent David anymore.

"Because they believed the only surefire way to keep you from reaching out to me was to make you believe I was dead."

They were right, too... I wouldn't have listened to orders. I was too in love with Dallas. I would've done anything to continue our relationship in secret. As it was, I hadn't even wanted to obey orders with regards to not attending his funeral or visiting his grave. I'd spent months secretly searching the A.R.T. database for the files on the shooting and anything having to do with Dallas David, but Director Jordan had made sure to keep those files so highly classified that it was impossible for me to get ahold of them. At the time, I'd thought he was just being an asshole. Now, I understood why he'd classified them. Jordan knew that if I'd read the case file and incident reports, I would've discovered the truth – that Dallas had not died.

"Well, then you know why I didn't try to find you," I said. "Tell me why you didn't reach out to me. Tell me why you didn't correct the record. Tell me why you let me believe for four goddamn long years that the man I loved more than anything in the fucking world was dead!"

My voice continued to rise until I was shouting at him, demanding the explanation. Still, he kept his cool. I watched him swallow hard and rub the back of his neck while his eyes traveled the room, still avoiding my stare.

"I did try," he said in a soft, pained voice, and I could swear I saw tears brimming in his stone cold eyes. "I wasn't about to follow orders like that, Tali. You were more important to me than I.D.A.'s rules could ever be. Those entire first two years, I tried every which way to contact you, but it was always interrupted somehow. I was constantly reprimanded for attempting contact. They watched me like a hawk to make sure it couldn't happen."

My heart hurt at the thought that Dallas had been trying to reach out to me at the same time that I'd been spiraling downhill into an alcohol addiction over his death.

"So what stopped you then? Why'd you stop trying?" I choked out through tears that were now streaming down my cheeks again. "Did you give up on me?"

Instead of defending his actions and explaining what had happened, his expression hardened and he almost looked angry with me. His guilt-ridden look turned to hurt and disdain. He looked like someone who had been betrayed.

"No." His voice was gruff, deep and dark with a hint of agony. "You moved on. That's why I stopped trying, Tali. It ripped my fucking heart out to see you with him, but I swallowed my pride and told myself that if you were happy again with someone else, then I wasn't going to ruin that for you! I grew a pair of balls and let you go! Okay?"

He jumped up from his chair and kicked it as hard as he could, sending it flying against a dresser across the room. With his back turned to me, he lifted his arms to rest behind his head while he fought away an urge to break down.

I could hear his breathing as he tried to calm down. I could see the tension in his muscles with every heaving breath he took, and I wondered if he felt the same tightness in his chest that I did.

But what on fucking earth was he talking about? I'd clearly never moved on. There had never been anyone else, with the exception of Matt's one-night stand, and I didn't count that as anything, really. What had given Dallas the idea that I'd moved on?

"What are you talking about?" I asked once he finally seemed to relax a little.

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" he grumbled with his back still facing me.

"Dallas, I never moved on." I tried to assure him. "There was never anyone but you. It was always you."

He laughed sarcastically and turned back around, slipping his hands in his pockets and staring me down like he was a human lie detector and he was trying to gauge the validity of my words.

His eyes searched mine and I was sure he could see how confused I was, but his tough exterior wasn't softening in the least.

"I saw pictures, Tali," he said in a venomous voice, like whatever he thought I'd done still infuriated him now just as much as it had back then.

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Pictures of what?"

"You and Matt!" he hollered, throwing his arms up as well. "The two of you in bed together!"

"What?"

"Two years in, I finally found a way to get in touch with my old teammate, Jason, and asked him to deliver a message for me since I couldn't make contact with you. When he went over to A.R.T.'s bunkhouse to find you, your curtains were open and you were riding your team leader, Tali! What the fuck am I supposed to think of that, huh? Sure as fuck sounds like you moved on!" Dallas was shouting at me as if he'd just caught me cheating on him. "I didn't believe it at first! I didn't want to believe it! But then I saw the photographic proof. I was pissed to begin with, but after wallowing in self-pity for a few weeks, I finally convinced myself that if you were happy with Matt, I shouldn't fuck everything up for you by reinserting myself into your life. That is why I stopped trying, Tali."

I was silent for a long time after he stopped yelling. He continued to stand there, practically towering over me with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation. I wasn't sure if I could give him one. No matter how I responded, I knew anything I said would hurt him more.

I couldn't deny that I'd had sex with Matt, and I wasn't going to, whether he'd seen proof or not. It happened, yes, but I hadn't thought anything of it at the time. I hadn't been trying to get over Dallas. I didn't feel anything romantic for Matt. I'd gone against my better judgment and let myself drunkenly indulge in an activity that would temporarily take my mind off of the pain, with someone I knew I could trust not to make me feel guilty about it afterwards. Yet, here I was feeling guilty anyway, years later, wishing I could go back and prevent it from happening.

Maybe if I hadn't had sex with Matt, Dallas's message would've eventually gotten through to me. Maybe I wouldn't have spent those four years in misery over him. Maybe we would've been back together long before now. Maybe he never would've stopped trying to get ahold of me until it worked...

"Matt and I were never a thing," I finally choked out in almost a whisper, my voice laced with guilt and regret for my actions, though seemingly harmless at the time. "Dallas, that was a one-night stand your friend saw. It was a mistake. Nothing romantic ever happened between us, before or after that night."

"Sure didn't look like nothing," he hissed, that familiar fire lighting up his eyes again.

"It was nothing. I promise you. It felt like I was cheating on you the whole time I was with him. Dallas, I never got over you." I broke down into a sobbing mess again, frantically trying to wipe the tears away, but they just wouldn't stop coming. "I never fucking got over you, damnit! You can't imagine the pain I've been in all this time, all because of you! I went through counseling because I was so fucked up over you, and when that didn't work, I took up alcohol! You know why? Because I was so. Fucked. Up. Over you! I can't remember the last time I was sober on a mission! Do you realize how-"

"Yeah? Well, I haven't been any better, Tali!" he interrupted, getting in my face. "All this time, I've been under the impression that I was forgettable enough that you moved on that quickly! You think you've had a rough time? Oh, I've had a fucking cakewalk over here! After I saw you with Matt, I must've fucked the whole roster of female I.D.A. agents at my division! But that didn't do it for me. You know why? None of them were you, Tali! No one ever compared to you! Oh, and then there was my good friend, Everclear, that I blacked out on every fucking day for months just to get your face out of my head! I was so fucked up, I.D.A. sent me to rehab for six months! So don't you dare think you're the only one who's been going through hell over this!"

My sobs had turned to quiet whimpers as I hid my face in my hands, unable to look at him. I couldn't bear to see the anguish in his once lively hazel eyes. The unbearable pain in my chest felt just as strong as the heartbreak I'd endured the day he'd supposedly died, and I nearly screamed out in agony.

How dare the Alpha Reconnaissance Taskforce and International Defense Alliance think they had any right to interject themselves into Dallas's and my relationship and destroy it! How dare Directors Jordan and Bartley lie to me about his death after I'd spent hours in interrogation admitting to my superiors how in love with him I'd been for six years! How dare they think my duties as an agent were more important than my duties to my own heart!

Once I was able to halt the flow of tears again, I lifted my head from my hands to see that Dallas had moved back to his spot in the chair. He was sitting there with his forearms resting on his thighs as he hunched over, staring blankly at the floor in the same way you often saw family members in hospital waiting rooms as they awaited answers from doctors regarding their loved ones. He looked like a distraught family member who had just been given terrible news and was trying to figure out how to cope. I'd never seen him this way before, and I didn't have the slightest idea how to approach him.

"I can feel you watching me," Dallas muttered, not looking up. "If you have something to say, just say it."

He looked like he was bearing the weight of the entire world on his broad shoulders, and though I saw him as being so invincible that even he could handle that, it still slashed at my emotions like a knife to see him that way. Never, in all the years I'd known him, had I ever seen Dallas David look vulnerable, and it pained me just as much as seeing him on the ground, bleeding out, had.

I set the pillow I'd been hugging aside and slowly got up from the bed. A dizziness enveloped me, but I did my best to ignore it, stepping over to where he sat. He had yet to look up at me, so I opted to meet his gaze from the floor.

I crouched down, just below eye level with him, and I could feel his ragged breaths on my face. His lips were parted, taking in slow gasps, and his eyes were just as puffy and bloodshot as mine. He was looking to his left, trying hard to avoid meeting my eyes.

"Thank you," I eventually mumbled up at him, and he slowly shifted his gaze to look at me, his brows drawn into a grieving frown.

"What?"

I reached out to grasp his hands in mine and that feeling of electricity humming between us reignited.

"Thank you for protecting me, for being there, for bandaging my stupid arm..." I gestured to the small flesh wound he'd doctored while I'd been unconscious. "Thank you for... for still giving a damn after all these years, despite thinking I'd moved on."

Dallas shook his head, dismissing my words. "No reason to thank me, Tali."

He stood up, giving me a hand up, and started to walk away, but I grabbed his shirt and tugged him back to face me again.

"You don't get to walk away, Dallas," I told him sternly. "Don't you dare walk away from me."

He continued to wear that brooding expression, but I could see in his eyes that he was struggling to keep a restraint on the things he really wanted to say and do.

"I just got you back. Don't you fucking leave me again," I begged, clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

He raised his hands to rest on my hips and pulled me against his body, chills erupting everywhere that we touched, and I knew he was quickly admitting defeat, giving in to the need to be together again.

"You know I don't want to leave you," he said sincerely. "Hell, I'm surprised I survived four years without you in my arms. But I can't help thinking about the consequences. I'm already in deep shit with I.D.A. once I get back to Israel. I don't know how we could make this work, given the circumstances. Just cause it's been four years doesn't mean our agencies are going to relax their disapproval of our relationship, and the last thing I want is for you to get hurt because of me."

I understood where he was coming from. He was worried that if we tried to stay together, something terrible – and potentially deadly – could result from it. He was trying to protect me. I couldn't be mad over that. Still, it stung that he wasn't kissing the air out of my lungs and professing his undying love for me the way I wanted to do to him.

One thing stood out to me, though – one final question that had yet to be answered.

"Why are you here, Dallas?" I asked. "How did you find me?"

He brushed stray hairs that'd fallen from my ponytail back behind my ear and the corners of his lips curved into a small, loving smile.

"I still keep tabs on you," he admitted. "I've gained my higher levels of security clearances back over the last two years. Now that my every move isn't monitored like it used to be, I take advantage of the database to see what A.R.T. is up to and where they've sent your team, the mission statuses, that sort of thing. I knew you went to London, but you went off the grid the next day. There's an international manhunt for you among agencies in about thirteen different countries, Tali."

The ice in my heart seemed to thaw when I heard that even after four years, after everything, Dallas still kept an eye on me just to make sure I was okay. I wished I'd been able to do that with him, too. I would've found out where he was and immediately run back into his arms.

"But how'd you figure out that I was in Berlin?"

His small smile widened. "I knew that if you were half the agent I thought you were, you'd remember my friend, Alana, and go to her if you needed help. I called her on a hunch and she filled me in. It wasn't hard to find you. The sirens and gunshots kind of gave it away."

I smacked his arm playfully and he grinned down at me. God, that smile was awestricken-ing.

"Seriously, though, Tali." His expression hardened again. "You need to go back, go home. You're not safe."

"You'll protect me," I said, confident that he would.

Dallas rolled his eyes. "Tali, I can only protect you for so long. I've got to go back to Israel. You've got to go back to the States. You and I both know this can't work..."

"The hell it can't!" I shouted, shoving away from him. "Why are you trying so hard to push me away, Dallas? Why? Didn't you miss me as much as I missed you? Don't you still love me? Cause I damn sure still love you! Don't make me lose you again. I can't go through that again."

In a fit of rage and desperation, I threw a punch at the wall and started on my way to storm out of the room. My journey was halted when Dallas immediately caught my uninjured arm and spun me back around to face him again, a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Don't you dare question whether I'm still in love with you!" He finally broke and pulled me in for the most superlative, amazing kiss I'd ever shared with anyone in my entire life, and I could literally feel how much he still loved me.