If you are out of trouble, watch for danger. - Sophocles' Philoctetes

I know he has done bad things, but he has been so good to me it's hard to remember. - Felicity's journal, March 29

For several minutes, Felicity stood frozen next to the cupboard in the makeshift kitchen, her fingers fidgeting with the beads hidden beneath her t-shirt. When Jase toyed with her, flirted and teased, she found him incredibly attractive, but she found her defenses on high alert, and she just managed to resist him. When he spoke with such considerate urgency, though, Felicity melted into a cooperative puddle, a willing accomplice to her own demise. The beads reminded her what would happen to her if she did that.

Once again, she filtered through her reasonings for rejecting Jase's advances. His instability, his background, his character – the consistency she owed her kids precluded an alliance with such a man. Though it had proven a lie, her idealism demanded a man like Brendon. Like the Brendon she had thought she had known. Maybe no such man had ever or would ever exist.

If she demanded moral excellence and nobility, how did Jase even continue to attract her? Was his own desire for her the magnet? Was she so vain that her ego compelled her to reel in her catch? Or just so desperate that any sign of affection could win her? How pathetic! she thought for the second time. Who was Jase when he was not playing the hero? But how long did she wait to find out? Until he was gone?

As she had promised, Felicity settled onto the sofa with A Tale of Two Cities. She forewent Mahler for a lush piano piece by Ravel - repetition had rendered Mahler grating. Charles Darnay had just been imprisoned for the second time when Felicity thought she heard the sound of an approaching car. Rushing to the front door, she peered through the small window at the top, ready to sprint to the closet if it proved necessary.

To her relief, she spied Jase's car outside, with what looked like Jase behind the wheel. Holding her breath, she waited to relax until the car stopped, and she recognized Jase's figure rising from the driver's side seat. With determined indifference, she noted that a tall, brown-haired woman exited the passenger side – the woman was elegant and beautiful. Unlike the past several days, Jase wore the amused expression Felicity had seen him wear the first few times she had met him. The woman – Felicity assumed her to be Amélie – laughed brazenly, throwing her head back in a carefree manner. Oh, they would work as newlyweds.

Felicity moved away from the door - Sydney Carton suddenly called her name. She moved back to the couch and reopened her book. When Jase entered with his “friend,” Felicity did not want to appear over-eager to see him. The book provided a good buffer for her to hide behind.

“Felicity?” his voice called after Felicity heard the click of the door. He sounded troubled, maybe even angry.

“In here,” she replied nonchalantly. “Still reading.”

Jase mumbled something to Amélie, who giggled, and Felicity piqued a little at the exclusion.

“Felicity, this is Amélie.”

“Bonjour, Amélie,” Felicity tried to smile. Her enthusiasm for speaking French had suddenly waned.

“Ah, très bien. Bonjour,” the corners of Amélie's full, red lips arched upward. “Vous parlez francais?”

“Un peu,” Felicity clarified, trying and failing to sound warm.

“Amélie has been putting in appearances around Banff. It’s going well.” Jase smiled at Amélie. All his former melancholy had evaporated.

“That was a great idea. Merci bien, Amélie,” Felicity turned toward Amélie. “I'm very grateful that you’ve given us time to make a plan.”

“Avec plaisir,” Amélie returned graciously.

Felicity definitely saw an air of frustration pass over Jase's features as he took in her indifference. She smiled covertly, pleased at her convincing performance.

“Will you be staying long? I can sleep on the couch if we need more room,” Felicity offered.

Amélie looked archly at Jase; Felicity couldn't figure out why. Did the Frenchwoman generally share a room with Jase? Or did she expect that Jase and Felicity already shared a bed? In Jase's world, Felicity guessed that would have been nothing unusual. Her eyes narrowed, and Jase finally smiled.

“I would never dream of displacing you after what you've been through,” Amélie insisted. She glanced impishly at Jase. “I will sleep on the couch.”

Felicity's stomach churned at the look Jase returned to Amélie.

“Sleeping arrangements aside,” he smirked, “If this plan works, we may not need to leave before we have everything set in place. If anyone at ProtoComm suspected anything, I feel confident that Amélie has calmed them down.”

Biting her lip, Felicity blinked away the tension in her face. She didn't know how long she could play the very un-jealous girl who didn't mind the seductress flirting with Jase. Regardless of her intentions, she worried that the competition and jealousy would draw her in where Jase's attentions had not. That's really sad, she thought to herself.

Amélie and Jase began a discussion – switching between French and English - of their next day's plans, detailing which locations and activities would appear most convincing and would make them most likely to encounter a ProtoComm person. They had already encountered several during their initial four-hour excursion. Most of the management would be going home after the weekend, and only Bill, Brendon, and a few others would remain behind. Unfortunately for Felicity, Bill maintained a semi-permanent address in Banff to be near his parents and did not have any definite plans to return to Phoenix for a while. Funny how such an evil man could feel the responsibility to care for his elderly parents. It reminded her of the old mafia movies: as long as you were “family,” they “had your back.”

When had she ceased to be family? she wondered, surprised at the suddenness of the wistful thought. How could Brendon have just set her aside like that? Maybe he recognized that the woman he had married had the backbone to stand up to him when necessary, and he had grown concerned that if or when she found out what he was doing, she would defy him as she always defied injustice. For the first time in a while, Felicity smiled in genuine pleasure as she moved to her room. Despite all that she had been through, she suddenly felt a modicum of self-satisfaction. All that time, she had wallowed in the misery of Brendon's rejection, somehow irrationally blaming herself for not being enough. What if he had rejected her instead because she was too much? Because he knew he couldn’t buy or coerce her to turn the other way. If that were the case, Felicity could live with that.

For the first time since her abduction, the idea of nabbing and fleeing with her kids didn't seem insane. If she could hold her head high before them, she could eventually handle explaining to them why they would have to live as they would have to. Hope spouted tentatively in her chest. Since she had married Brendon, she had doubted herself, doubted her own worth, her competence, her intelligence. Apparently, Brendon had considered her competent and intelligent enough to serve as a threat, and in her mind, that fact made her worthy.

Drifting blithely into slumber, she slept soundly for several hours under the effect of her enlightenment.

Sometime during the early morning hours before the sun, Felicity awoke, her serenity disturbed for a reason unknown to her. Through the stupor of her sleepiness, two silhouettes pressed into her mind. She seemed to see Jase and Amélie, dancing, pressed so tightly together that no light could be seen between their bodies, though the rising sun cast a long shadow around them. The low murmur of their conversation escaped Felicity's perception, but the throaty laughs and seductive smiles wreaked havoc on her peace of mind. She wanted to bolt daringly across the space between them and pull Amélie from Jase's grasp, but when she made it to her feet, it seemed every step she took moved the couple farther away from her. A trill of laughter erupted from Amélie's mouth as Jase ran his lips up the line between her neck and chin, finally landing on the tender softness beneath her ear.

In a rush of anger, Felicity found herself sitting upright in her bed, the echoes of the laugh still ringing through her room. She rushed to dress herself and stumbled into the hallway seeking the source of the sound of mirth that had invented the dream. Low murmuring voices wafted into the hallway from the direction of the living room. Though she had feared, expected, the voices to come from the bedroom, their location did nothing to assuage her irritation. She shuffled petulantly to join Jase and Amélie, not really caring what she interrupted. Instead of the intimate tryst she expected, however, Felicity found Jase and Amélie seated, completely appropriately, at the small breakfast table and sipping coffee.

“Did we wake you?” Amélie apologized in her thick French accent.

“No,” Felicity lied. “I was just taking my time. I'm sure Jase has told you how slow I am in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed in mock irritation.

“He forgot to tell me that part,” Amélie laughed, more subdued than before.

“Like I could talk much with you around,” Jase teased the Frenchwoman. Felicity heard, for the second time, that foreign accent hinting around the edges of his tone. With Amélie's own accent to compare it with, Felicity confirmed her earlier suspicions: it was French.

“You contribute your share,” Amélie retorted pleasantly.

The familiar ease of their interchange garnered an envious pang in Felicity's stomach. Not hot jealousy, more of an ache of longing. She remembered the easy banter between Brendon and herself before they had left for Canmore, and then at the cabin. Her fingers wandered distractedly to the beads at her neck. It seemed like an eternity ago, another lifetime since she and Brendon had left their boring, normal home. Had she really complained about the tedium? She had, even as she made believe that her life was wonderful – for Brendon’s sake.

Her idealized vision of Brendon – the imagined man she had lost – was such a paragon, and not just in his own mind. From the beginning, in high school, he had made her feel like she was the most fascinating person in the world. He pursued her relentlessly, charming her and reeling her in. Once he had her, any hint that she was reconsidering their relationship sent him into utter despair. Felicity didn’t have any great need to be needed, but she couldn’t stand to break someone’s heart so thoroughly. She stayed. She dismissed her wandering heart as sign of her immaturity, a childish fancy. She buckled down and learned to love him. And she did love him. She knew every person had weaknesses and failures, and she chose not to focus on those. Instead, she kept his strengths firmly entrenched in her vision. His generosity – mostly with others. His intelligence. His sense of humor – only at her expense about half the time they were together. His masterful and commanding nature, tempered by charm. And the intensity of his claim on her when he turned his eyes on her.

In reality, though, there were many more negatives that accompanied the positive, faults that she should never have ignored. His ability to repaint the truth into the image he desired. His sneering judgment of people who thought differently than he did. His tendency to mock people – mainly her, but sometimes the kids and often strangers – for days after an imagined slight. His marked arrogance and sense of superiority. His dismissal of Felicity and her kids. But possibly most important, the fact that Felicity had not felt an emotional connection with Brendon since the first day after they had married, the day he had communicated to her that, now that she was his, she had to live up to his image.

As if he could read her mind and wished to redirect it, Jase interrupted Felicity's thoughts with a flirtatious-sounding comment in French as he leaned over Amélie’s shoulder with a confidential laugh. Displeasure flashed across Felicity’s features.

“J'imagine qu'elle n'a pas passé beaucoup de temps à s'inquiéter de ce qui se trouvait sous la cabine,” Amélie smiled.

“Did you say something was under the cabin?” Felicity wondered.

Amélie and Jase exchanged a look, as if they hadn’t intended for Felicity to understand

“What?” Jase hedged.

“Is there something under this cabin?”

Amélie pursed her lips in displeasure.

“Not this cabin,” Jase apprised her. “The one where you stayed.”

“What’s under my cabin…?”

When Jase didn’t answer right away, Felicity scoffed in irritation, turning away toward her room. It was stupid, but she just couldn’t bear watching them another second.

Jase caught up with her at the hallway.

“What’s going on?” he implored, rubbing his hands up and down her arms soothingly. Felicity felt a hint of guilt over her childish response to being left out.

“I just think I should know what’s going on since it affects me. You guys just babble in French, as if I’m not in the room. It gets frustrating.”

Maddeningly, he pulled her into a hug – as if he had a right to comfort her. She couldn’t find the will to push him away, though.

“I’m sorry,” he comforted. “It’s very easy for Amélie and me to talk because we’ve known each other for a decade, and we’ve been in a lot of tight situations together. But,” he lowered his face to look directly at Felicity, “we have too much history to take each other seriously, okay? We take our work together seriously, but the rest of this is just a game.”

“Sounds fun,” Felicity snarked, but cut him off before he could answer her, “but what is under my cabin?”

Jase let go of her and paced a few steps. “That cabin is Bill’s Banff area residence.”

“We stayed at Bill’s place?” The thought gave Felicity chills.

“Made monitoring you easy,” Jase shrugged a tad guiltily. “And the plan involved impressing you. Lull you into complacency just in case Brendon couldn’t pull off the lie. Bill always gives himself the best.”

“No worries there,” Felicity mumbled. “But I imagine,” she continued, “that there was nothing strategic in keeping me at the cabin because of what’s underneath it.”

“You’re right,” Jase acceded. “What’s underneath is there because it’s Bill’s cabin. It was strategically good for Brendon to use the cabin because it’s Bill’s cabin. Other than that, those aren’t related in any other way.”

“So, what were you and Amélie talking about?”

“The closed backup server you and I discussed is underground at the cabin. It has a consolidation of all the transactions done by ProtoComm, and I am convinced that I’ll find what you need on Brendon there.”

Felicity’s mind went into overtime. They were physically so close, but she had no idea how she would gain access to those servers.

“What email did you contact your brother with?” Amélie called from the breakfast table.

Felicity's suspicion heightened. Were they trying to read the exchange? Not happening.

“Um, I just made a new mailman account.” The more truth the easier to remember. “I think it was Felicity1245. I just had to make up a number; there were so many Felicity's.”

Felicity figured she had an exponential ability to feign forgetfulness on the numbers. Maybe it was Felicity2145, she rehearsed mentally.

“Amélie, would you please try to login for us? See if Nick has sent anything to Felicity?”

“Naturellement.”

“Why do you want to see the email?” Felicity fished, trying to sound curious instead of suspicious. “I just told him I'm okay. I didn't expect any response from him.”

Jase's answer came a little too slowly, as if he had to decide what he needed to say, or maybe come up with it. His troubled tone had returned. “I thought maybe your brother could find something from the computers that would help us.”

Breathing deeply through her nose, Felicity closed her eyes, determined to calm herself. Sometimes she felt so overwhelmed that she didn’t know how she had a coherent thought. Much less manage complex maneuvers. Yet she was here matching wits with Amélie and Jase, and planned to challenge Brendon at some point.

“Felicity, c'est faux,” Amélie asserted.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“It's wrong. The email doesn't exist.”

Felicity prayed that she could carry out the deception- she had very little practice in the art. “But I was sure...” she began. “I could be wrong about the number, I guess. I avoid math at all costs.” Felicity attempted a sheepish smile. Would they have believed her ruse if they had known she aced college calculus? She just stared at them, biting her lip in apology.

“Okay,” Jase began in irritation, but then he seemed to catch himself, and any spark of anger diffused into frustration. Though she couldn't decipher his emotions, he didn’t seem to suspect her.

“Do you remember why you picked the number you picked?” Jase asked patiently, trying to help jog Felicity's memory.

Felicity furrowed her brow. “I just used one of the ones they suggested. I could have sworn...” she continued ingenuously. “My mind is just so overwhelmed!” she sighed dramatically, playing on Jase's sympathies. Her abstraction of the morning should buttress her melancholy performance.

Jase's eyes softened a little, shedding their barely-concealed irritation. “Amélie, let's see if we can tap into Brendon's system from here. Maybe Felicity will remember later.”

Amélie grimaced at Jase. Felicity couldn't tell whether Amélie felt impatience with Felicity or irritation at Jase's indulgent attitude toward her. With a little huff, Amélie turned broodingly back to her laptop. Jase moved cautiously toward Felicity, as if he feared alarming her.

“Felicity?” he tentatively stepped closer, as if he couldn't decipher her mood. Felicity almost smiled at how convincing she must have been. “Are you okay? You seem distracted this morning.”

Or maybe I just can't look you in the eye because I'm lying to you. “I'm okay,” Felicity hedged.

Jase took her hand, peering into her face in search of something, something that drew a smile behind his eyes when he found it. What did he suspect? Why would it make him smile?

“Thank you so much for your help, Amélie,” Jase threw across to the Frenchwoman somewhat abruptly. He kept his eyes glued to Felicity’s. Felicity cast hers to the floor. “I know you wanted to be seen by a few people while you're in town. Why don't I join you at Tonquin at 5 o'clock?”

Amélie responded coyly. “Our room, or the village?”

“The village will be fine,” Jase replied.

The exchanged drew a huff from Felicity, and when she raised her eyes in irritation, she caught Jase’s broad smile. Suddenly she knew what he had seen in her eyes, and it had nothing to do with her lies. She gulped as he released her hand.

“Très bien.” Amélie crossed to Felicity. “It has been such a pleasure meeting you, Felicity. I'm glad I could help you. Maybe we'll meet again under better circumstances.” Amélie and Jase exchanged a look, and Amélie turned away with a roll of her eyes. What had that meant? Was Felicity’s peril so boring to the Frenchwoman? No, the boredom definitely stemmed from Jase, and Felicity looked back and forth between the pair.

She did not feel particularly ingratiated to Amélie at the moment, but she determined to be gracious. Plus she needed to break the moment that brewed between her two companions.

“Thank you so much.” Felicity turned, reaching for Amélie's hand. Instead, Amélie leaned into Felicity and kissed both of her cheeks in the traditional French fashion.

Stepping away from Felicity, Amélie repeated her kisses for Jase, but instead of the platonic distance she had kept between herself and Felicity, Amélie stepped intrepidly into Jase's arms, pulling them around her. Only then did she kiss his face, lingering for a moment on each cheek. A feminine finger trailed under his chin as she stepped away, and she wore a definite smirk.

“Au revoir,” she tossed flippantly back at them as she let herself out the door. “Be careful, Jase.”

The indifference Felicity had so carefully cultivated crumbled to dust as she watched Amélie's performance. All of her new self-respect, all of her high internal speech about nobility, all her determined nonchalance. Somehow, Amélie proved the lie within it. Gritting her teeth, Felicity glared at the doorway through which the woman had disappeared.

“Felicity,” Jase begged impishly. “Are you okay?”

When she turned to look at him, she sucked in a breath. He stood a hair’s breadth away, not moving closer, but not giving her space. Electricity sizzled up and down her body from the connection that brewed between them. She quickly tried to erase her jealous expression, but she must have failed.

When Jase finally spoke, he turned so that he stood in the middle of the tiny hallway, and when Felicity mirrored his movement, her back pressed against the wall behind her. A smile played on the corner of his lips, and something seemed to warm inside of him. Felicity stared at those lips.

“What's the matter?” he repeated, raising his arm to lean against the wall above her head.

Oh, that scent, she tried not to notice, though musk and cedar and leather mingled with something floral – maybe jasmine – in the confined space. A mix of Jase's cologne and whatever else he wore. Belt, shoes, shirt…heat.

“Nothing,” Felicity insisted petulantly, though she turned her head to avoid his gaze. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm herself. Despite her resolve, her voice came out breathy.

Jase inched even closer to Felicity, if that were possible, until she abruptly became aware of the warmth of his breath on her exposed neck. “Felicity,” his voice caressed her name. She pressed herself further against the wall, but she didn’t step away. “Amélie and I have been friends for a very long time. She is something very different to me than what you are,” he insisted, his voice almost a whisper.

“Friends?” Felicity rejoined skeptically, raising her eyes to his.

An alluring smile warmed his mouth, and his eyes dropped hungrily to her lips.

She waited for her habitual protest to voice itself, but something restrained it. Without her permission, Felicity's breath became shallow and quick, matching her heart's rhythm. His hand raised slowly to her cheekbone, his eyes never leaving her lips.

Is this it? she demanded of herself. Am I going to do this? Nothing inside her rose to object. On the contrary, her lips parted in anticipation, charged with tense excitement. Although her mind implored her to escape, her body revolted against her better judgment.

As Jase's mouth descended toward hers, her eyes closed, her defenses failing her completely. She managed to move her mouth an inch to the side, so that their lips just brushed corner to corner.

“Felicity,” he whispered, warm breath caressing her face.

“Jase,” she moaned. “I can't. I...” Her stomach churned with a painful fusion of regret and guilt, her two minds divided. If he pressed her then, she would break. If she kissed him, the barrier would break, and she saw nothing to impede her descent back into utter dependency. Despite her words, her hands clutched his sweater and held him to her, and she could not make herself let go.

For a moment, nothing happened. Unlike the last time she had rejected him, Jase did not pull away from her in anger. Instead, Jase leaned his face toward her again, weaving one of his hands into her hair. “I understand,” he murmured. His actions belied his words. Lowering his face, he trailed his lips gently along her chin, up and down until she gasped with the sensation. He leaned into her neck, pausing at the beads where they met her skin, and the heat of his mouth brushed tenderly across the sensitive skin where the cool stones lay. “The choice has to be yours.”

Jase caressed her hair with one hand while he lowered the arm that rested on the wall. Finally, he unraveled his fingers from her hair and stepped away from her. She did not open her eyes, nor attempt to move from her position against the wall. Her knees trembled too much to be trusted.

When her breathing had slowed and her strength returned, Felicity opened her eyes to find herself alone in the hallway. She had no idea where Jase had fled, or even if he had left the house altogether. With her heart still drumming a rapid beat, she did not have the resolve to see him again. No coherent thought arose to upbraid or encourage her. Mindlessly, she wandered, dazed, into the living room and fell on the couch. Had Jase left her out of consideration of her request? Or to increase her longing?

She lay down and closed her eyes, unable to call out to him or search for him. How dangerously close had she come to giving in? She had a mission, and she would use Jase to get protection from ProtoComm and Brendon. Then she would go back to her kids. Reaching her hands to rub her neck, she encountered the beads that encircled her throat. When she remembered his lips, displacing the beads, the thought filled her with warmth. The beads were yesterday’s life - a life she would never again live. She slid her hands to the back of her neck and unclasped the strand, proceeding to shove the beads into her pocket. She didn’t want to move just yet, but she would drop them deep in the nearest trash bin once she arose.

With the removal of the beads, Felicity felt a noose slip from her shoulders, a leash that tied her to a time she intended to leave behind her. She knew that much. She did not know what she was going to do with Jase. Unfortunately for her, using people was not really her wheelhouse. If she gave into his pursuit, if she gave in to that part of her heart, she would not be able to step away when she needed to – to leave him behind. She could not lose sight of her goal. Felicity forced herself into a restless sleep. Exhausted, she willfully rejected rational thought and dove headlong into mindless oblivion.