A/N: This chapter contains a scene of a sexual nature. If you're not comfortable with that type of content you can stop reading halfway through page 4 . 

Olivia grimaced as she took off the safety vest and placed it in her locker. She didn't need to look up to know that Steven's eyes followed her every move as they had since she came back from the director's office the day she admitted failure. She wouldn't have failed had the mission not targeted her weaknesses, weakness he knew all too well after having a hand in their creation.

"I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You were a respected member of the military and now you run errands more suited to whores."

Olivia's jaw clenched and she dug her nails into her palm. "Every mission presents different challenges."

"And lying with a man who beats you simply to gain intel is a reasonable mission in your eyes?"

"I do not lie with him for intel," Olivia muttered. She had entirely different motives for that part of their relationship. She knew that letting Steven believe Edward was responsible could lead to complications; however, she couldn't admit the defeat of revealing the wounds as those of her failure.

"Highly esteemed women shouldn't be forced to act in this way."

They shouldn't, but then again the director held her in the lowest esteem possible without evicting her.

"Careful, the walls have ears. You may not find your next mission so accommodating."

Steven shifted his weight and looked up to the far corner of the room. "Are you free tonight?"

"We're work colleagues, Steven. I'd appreciate if we stuck to those terms."

Either way, she had orders to report to the director in five days time and didn't plan to come empty handed again. Anything Steven had in mind would only waste her time and energy. Her sides still ached from the last 'lesson' and there would be no way to talk her way out of it again. Failure was not an option.

Edward was beginning to see through any acts deliberately put on for him, like her last ruse. It had been a long shot to re-use the initial outfit. The only tactic that seemed to work lately was honesty and soul-bearing. The thought was terrifying. There were only so many layers to strip away before her marred soul would stand bare and ugly. Edward may not have had the most flattering skin, but the core of his being shone brightly.

When she reached her room, she changed out of her uniform and into a loose fitting green button down top and dark pants. She lit a couple candles and chilled a bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge. He probably didn't like wine, but she didn't have anyone else to share it with. She settled into the couch and fell asleep.     

A knock came on her door a couple minutes early, according to the watch she had synchronized with colony time. She shuffled around the room and fixed the position of a couple pillows on the couch before going up to the door. Through the peep-hole, Edward stood without the predictable smile on his face. As soon as the door opened, it reappeared on his face. Had he not been looking forward to their visit? Her fears grew as she realized the more of her true self she showed, the less he'd likely be interested.

"Hi, come in," she said and quickly shut the door behind him.

Even though the most of the people whose opinions she valued, knew she was interacting with Edward as part of this mission, she still had a nagging suspicion people would talk. They always did.

"Have you been resting and recovering?"

"Recovering, yes. Resting, no."

"At least it's honest."

Edward's eyes wandered around the room and she quickly double checked to make sure everything was in its proper place: books, tables, rug, center piece, candles, and lamps. Not that he would notice, but it would bother her if it wasn't.

"I didn't peg you as a candle woman."

"They are supposed to be relaxing and soothing."

"A gift from a friend, I'd assume."

She rubbed her palms against the soft fabric of her pants as her throat began to tighten. A friend, a lover, a dreamer. Not too different from the man currently sitting in his spot.

"I hope they help. If anyone could use some time to unwind, it's you."

Her mind, torn between sitting next to him and taking advantage of the intimate opening and escaping it by fetching wine, opted for the latter. There would be more intimacy, but it was too early to start, especially without any drinks.

"Do you drink wine?" Olivia asked as she came back with two glasses. Mostly a formality. She could drink the both if he outright refused.

"I will tonight," he replied as he took one from her. "Should we toast? To relaxation maybe."

"To relaxation."

She smiled as their glasses clinked and as the wine made its way down her throat like water. It would take more than that to get through the rest of the night. First step was to re-establish trust then to go for the information.

"I'm sorry," she started before she took another generous sip of wine. "For getting upset with you last time we spent time together." Larger sip. "There are many aspects of my past and my beliefs that I feel passionate about. It's not always easy to talk about them." Scratch that; it was never easy. Time for another glass.

"I can't imagine how hard it was to lose your fiancé."

Not lose. Alienate, abandon, ostracize, but not lose. He was out there. Too damn smart and resourceful not to be.

So much for the fresh glass. Edward went right for the jugular.

"No use dwelling in the past."

Bottle in hand, her wrist trembled slightly. Where could she steer the conversation? No topic offered both safety and the possibility to bring her and Edward closer. Could she invent? No, terrible liar and worse drunk. She'd have to work her way through this rut.

"We can talk about something else. This is clearly making you uncomfortable."

"No, I'm fine."

"You just sat down and that's your third glass."

"I was never very good at sharing."

A smile grew on Edward's face. "Somehow, I don't doubt that. It's good wine, thank you." His glass only had one sip in the time it took her to down two glasses. She set hers down on the coaster and leaned back on the couch.

"I didn't lose my fiancé in the storms, Edward." Dive in, head first. "He left when he couldn't stand to see what this place had done to him, to me, to the life we tried to build together. He was right." I was and am a selfish, lying, manipulative bitch. "I have to live with that every day."

"I can see how a purely physical relationship would be appealing after something like that."

"I never meant to drag your feelings into this and sway you every which way." She envied Edward's ability to stay neutral during these discussions. Her body betrayed her far more than she liked as of late.

"Don't feel too bad. It doesn't take much for me to get attached. I don't generally get the luxury of no-strings-attached relations. I'll chalk it up to lack of practice."

"You're a normal and caring human being, Edward. You don't deserve this crap," Olivia muttered, hoping the slurring would obscure her words. She needed to say them, but he didn't need to hear them.

"I can say the same about you."

"It would be a lie."

"I wish you could see yourself through another's eyes just for a day."

Whose? The director's who found her to be an outright weak and failure of a follower. Steven's who believed she prostituted her way to information.

"You're an incredibly driven woman, successful as hell, and deep, deep down, a caring and passionate person."

If only you knew I've been lying to your face to use you for information. You'd hate me as much as those who knew what I was really about.

When would it all stop?  

"I appreciate the flattery, but words can't excuse my actions."

"We all make mistakes."

No, Edward, we don't all make these ones.

Regular people had a conscious that kicked in and warned them of their own stupidity. Instead of a conscious, she had trusted the director's opinion. One that only had the interest of the colony at heart, despite all collateral damage.

Her voice came out in a light whisper, "I killed an innocent person."

She hadn't realized the weight her fiancé had felt speaking those words until she also admitted the crime. The memory was as fresh as the smell of lavender in the room.

Marcel walked into the apartment with trembling hands and most of the buttons of his shirt undone at the collar. The dark skin on his neck gleamed from the sweat. His brown eyes were tinged with red.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked, looking up from the tablet. She wanted to tell him tonight, but it didn't look to be the right time. Nine months could come and go and she probably still wouldn't find the right time.

"Liv, we need to leave this colony as soon as possible."

Olivia's stomach somersaulted twice. They couldn't. It would be suicide for all of them.

"You know there are only weeks left now. We can't."

Marcel walked over and fell to his knees. He reached out for her torso and rested his head against it. Did he already know?

"I killed an innocent man today."

Olivia waited for more. Her hands weren't clean either, but the lives she had taken were in the best interest of her country. Always justified. None had been lost in here yet.

"Why?"

"We interrogated him for hours and assumed we would release him. One of the other officers had orders from the director that we were not to release this man. We were advised to administer a sedative to transport him to a more suitable location. It was my duty to give the injection and I did. The prisoner's eyes closed and he dropped face first onto the table. His body began to seize and seize. I went to get someone to help but the other officer stopped me.

'Let it be,' he said. 'It will only take a minute'. At that point, I realized what I had done and went to run for help. The officer restrained me until all the movement had escaped the prisoner's body."

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."

"Do you want to have a future in a place that tricks and manipulates you into doing their dirty work? To have the blood of innocents upon your hands so a raging sociopath can get away with it. My family did not come to this country to repeat the same conditions we grew up in. I beg of you, Liv. We need to leave. I know how this will end."

"We can't," Olivia said.   

"This place is not safe for us. Their reality is far different from the ideals we all originally discussed in meetings, as equals, months ago. He has no intention of creating a democracy. We are strong individuals and whatever fate will become of the current society, whatever storms roll through the cities, we can handle."

"It's too much risk, Marcel. If it were just us two I would agree with your logic. We have a third party to consider now."

"Olivia, the director is not to be trusted."

"It's our child, Marcel. Our unborn child."

Edward encased her hands in his. It was then she realized how much she had really been shaking. She went for the wine glass, but he stopped her.

"It's doing more harm than good tonight. You just zoned out for five minutes, shaking so much I thought you were having a seizure. Are you taking any medications for the pain that you might be having a strange reaction to?"

"I'm not on any medication." It would only show weakness in the face of her superiors.

Edward shook his head and looked down at her with pity. She grimaced. Oh how the mighty had fallen.

"It's okay to ask for help and to admit to pain. You're only making your recovery more difficult."

"You're not a doctor, Edward. You're a computer repairman."

"And you're a security officer. Clearly, neither of us is an expert, but common sense is on my side."

And pride on hers.

"I can help you to bed before I go, not to imply you're not able, but it can be easier with help."

"You just got here," Olivia protested. His face remained fairly neutral. No furrowed brow, no pointed glare or crossed arms, just a curious stare. "Are you upset with me?" He usually was.

"I care about you and I want you to rest enough for us to hangout without breaking out into a fight or panic attack."

"I can do that," she protested.

"You can, and we will another day."

"Tomorrow," she blurted out. The days until her meeting with the director would trickle away in an instant and she'd have nothing to offer him. "Stay over and we'll talk tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. The couch seems comfy enough. You have blankets right?"

"No, you'll just have to share the ones on my bed."

She feared for a moment that he may say no, but his footsteps followed seconds later. The bed, set up for a couple, hadn't had two occupants since the night Marcel had left in reckless fury. Her fingers traced the slight dent in the wall near the dresser where he'd flung the vase. She had been on the opposite side of the room, and the action had been purely symbolic.

She pried open the top drawer and looked for something to wear. It would be in her best interest to choose something flattering and fitted. She fingered a few camisoles. Edward came up behind her and grabbed her oldest t-shirt.

"I know what's going through your mind. Don't bother, you look amazing no matter what."

She took the shirt from him and walked over to the bed. As she tried to take the current one off, her back muscles tensed and pain radiated from her waist to her shoulder blades. Warm hands brushed her waist as they helped lift the shirt over her head. Her body protested as they left. She turned around to face him.

"Now you," she said and placed her hands under the hem of his shirt. He tensed and looked down at her. "Don't pretend you're not attracted to me under this charity guise you're putting on."

He helped her pull the t-shirt over his head. His posture slumped as he brought his arms together to mask his torso.

"Why are you embarrassed? This is the best you've looked since I've met you. Own it."

Edward smiled sheepishly. "My best and attractive aren't the same."

"Your best could be attractive if you acted like it was."

She ran her hands across his chest. Just enough hair to assert his masculinity, but not enough to look like a bushman. She brushed her lips on his chest, taking her sweet time to embrace every inch of his torso. His rigid body only encouraged her further. His desire put her back in control of the situation. As she kissed up his other side, she began to realize she missed something, reciprocity.

"Ball's in your court, Mr. Drest."

She bit down on her bottom lip to keep the words from coming out. Kiss me, touch me, want me. He had pulled away so many times when she failed at intimacy.

"They certainly are. And they're quite excited to see you."

"Good," she whispered back as his lips trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck.

Her bra impeded his progress until a quick click helped it tumble to the floor, only caught between their tightly pressed bodies for a moment. Pleasure shot through her as he encased her pert nipple in his mouth. Why had she ever thought cold calculated sex could compare to intimacy?

Her core muscles tightened as his teeth grazed her breast. "Edward," she moaned as his tongue went to work.

He pulled away for a moment and looked up at her with a grin. "Something I can help you with?"

Her body trembled as his fingertips brushed the lace waistband of her panties. "Keep going."

"Are you certain? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

That stupid grin. He was enjoying this just as much as she was and she'd hardly even started with him. "You are making me many things, Edward, but uncomfortable is not one of them."

"Tell me," hot air rushed past her ear as he spoke. His fingers dipped lower and she quivered in anticipation. "Exactly how do I make you feel?"

"Turned on." His fingers rewarded him with a touch as smooth as liquid silk. Their curiosity took away the ache, the failure, the shame.

"Keep going." He paused, bringing his caress to a gentle standstill.

"Incredible." They started up again as her desire began to build. "So hot." His speed increased as he traced her entrance. "Fan-fuck-me-now-tastic."

"You have a filthy, mouth. We'll have to do something about that."

He pressed his lips, wet with desire, to hers. She kissed him back hungrily, savouring each touch until his free hand slipped her panties down to her ankles. Her hands went for his belt, but he caught her. He entwined his fingers with hers.

"Not tonight."

"You're joking, right?"

His smile grew even larger. "I'm not looking to overexert you right now. When you've recovered, we can have wild, passionate, animal sex, if that's what you're into, but tonight I'm just going to finish what I started, unless you have an objection to that."

Oh Edward, she couldn't decide whether to hate him or hug him for those words.

"None."

"Good, now I suggest you lie down for this next part. It'll make the ride much more enjoyable."

He guided her down to the bed. She was about to protest his hands' departure from inside of her, until his tongue set her body on fire. She gripped the comforter as he brought her closer and closer to her breaking point. Her breaths became more and more ragged. Her back arched with each of his strokes, bringing the two of them to delicious points of proximity. Breaths became moans until the ecstasy turned them into screams. Her body shook before it dropped limply onto the bed.

Edward lay down beside her, only half as breathless. "I wish I knew you were a screamer earlier. I would have tried harder."

"I ..." Generally, she contained herself, but on a few occasions such as this one, it couldn't be helped. She rolled over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. That was amazing. Can I reciprocate?"

As she sat up to make her way toward the button of his jeans, a pain stopped her mid-movement. He noticed the flinch too.

"Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it. For now just enjoy my fine work."

"Someone is smug."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

She didn't even have to look to know he had a smirk on his face. She had no answer for that statement. He pulled away the covers so they could slip underneath.

"Have a good sleep, Olivia."

"You too, Edward. Thank you, for everything."

For the first night in weeks, she slept soundly, against Edward's warm body.