This is really starting to piss me off. People aren’t supposed to wake up where they didn’t fall asleep. – Briel’s conversation with Nessa.

All is flux, and nothing abides. – Heraclitus

The lack of stimulus shocked Briel, but she did not fear the awareness without sensation. As a child, Briel's dreams had always worn vivid, colorful hues of sensation, as if in defiance against her waking self's restraint. Her adulthood proved no different, and Briel had grown used to the intensity of her dreams.

For several seconds she lay, unmoving and sentient, before the soft shuffle of footsteps crept into her ears and alerted her mind to a presence, though she smelled nothing and her eyes would not open. She could not feel the caress of the sheets on her skin or the softness of the pillow beneath her head.

Abruptly, as she began to sense the slipping of air through her nose and into her lungs, a musky, intense scent accompanied the new stimulation. She recognized it at once, both alluring and disorienting, and she felt the increased pumping of her heart within her chest.

Don't believe him, the whisper came, somehow disconnected from the corporeal form before her.

Who are you? she replied to the voice.

It did not respond, except with the hollow echo of silence.

Her skin grew gradually aware of the coolness of the satiny sheets about her, and their pleasant chill soothed her skin where she lay. Completely without warning, she gasped at the contrast when the heat from unseen arms slipped themselves beneath her back and began to lift her from the comfort of her bed. She still could hear no sound from her surroundings, though her other senses had eased into attentiveness.

You can't trust him, the whisper returned, once again surmounting all her other senses and cutting off their flow to her consciousness.

What do you mean? she responded, hopeless that she would receive an answer.

From around her, the fiery arms constricted, engulfing her in a delirious heat that now surrounded her. The cool air that had caressed her face progressively fled before an approaching heat which finally concentrated onto her icy lips.

He doesn't care about you, the voice asserted silently.

But it looks like he cares…she wondered, confused as the flame kissed her paralyzed mouth.

Then, all at once, she heard two voices: the one from her head and another physical voice emanating from the inferno around her.

“I love you,” the once-silent voice answered her aloud at the same moment that the fire before her spoke, “Briel,” stroking her name with its tongues of flame.

Suddenly, her eyes responded to her command and opened in trepidation. No fire engulfed her and no flame caressed her; instead, she stared into Liam's raven eyes - eyes which churned with the latent desire that she had so often repelled.

Only then did Briel know that she had dreamed the silent voice.

As the cloud of sleep dissipated from her consciousness, Briel grew concerned. She heard Liam's voice drifting, not from directly before her, but from across the room. The ethereal effect of the dream had evaporated. Still, for some reason, she couldn't make her limbs obey her command to move, and her eyes had not yet opened to the real world.

“Hey, baby,” Liam crooned, his voice suddenly near and cool, a contrast to the evaporating flame of her dream. He brushed his hand lightly across her cheek. The adrenaline from his touch gave her a jolt of strength with which she opened her eyes. Gazing around her, she realized that she had awakened in Liam's apartment, having no recollection of how she had come there.

“Why am I here?” she asked uncertainly. She tried to recall the dream from which she had just awakened, but she could not, though some vague unease tugged at the corner of her consciousness.

“You don't remember anything?” Liam wore a concerned face.

“Remember what? The last thing I remember is your text. Frankly, I can't fathom why I would have come to your apartment for any reason in the world.” Briel's tone contained hints of annoyance.

Reaching down to her, Liam wove his arms behind her back and pulled her to a sitting position, resting her back against his headboard. She cringed from his warmth for some unfathomable reason, and her usual resistance failed her.

All the rejection she had given him when they had dated had still landed her in his bed, albeit not in the manner he had always intended. At least she still wore all of her clothes, though her collar seemed to have been loosened a little.

He brushed his hand against her cheek again, “I hate to upset you,” he asserted with uncharacteristic tenderness. “Especially after what you've just been through.”

“Just tell me, Liam. What is going on? Why am I here?” Whatever he could say, she had experienced far worse, both in her life and in her job, and she hated the out of control feeling of suspense.

“Well, your apartment building caught fire last night.”

“Fire?” The word managed to disturb her usual composure. “We have a state-of-the-art sprinkler system! How is that even possible?”

“Someone sent a virus into the sprinkler system. And I think they did it to get to you. I did a background check on everyone else in the building, ran it through intelligence sources. You're the only one with any kind of interesting background. Nothing even close – not even aliases.”

“So, why am I here?” she repeated, aware again that he hadn't answered her question.

“Well, after our exchange last night, I decided to go talk to you in person. I mean, text messaging is so impersonal; whatever you said, that kind of conversation needed to be in person.” She didn't miss the meaningful glance he shot her way, though he tried to hide it.

Because you know what your presence does to me, she acknowledged silently. Her shock at the destruction of her home had not made her insensitive to Liam's maneuvering.

“When I arrived, your neighbor's apartment was almost engulfed in flames, and everyone was standing in your yard watching the fire burn. When I asked where you were, no one knew, so I used my key to let myself in. I think the smoke had rendered you unconscious, though it didn't seem too thick in your room yet.”

“Did everyone else make it out?” Briel begged, her concern suddenly increasing.

“Yes. They all thought it strange that you hadn't heard the fire alarm, but when I looked, the electricity to your detector had been fried as well, like a backsignal had been sent through the programming. What's going on with you, Briel? This was done intentionally, as if someone targeted you.”

Briel fumbled for an explanation. “In our line of work, it seems possible, or maybe even likely.” Unfortunately, she had no real answer for him. For the last several days, she had even sensed a bulls-eye on her back, though she could not discern why. “Do you think someone on the team...?” she posited ingenuously. Though he looked doubtful, Briel could not clearly decide whether he did so for her benefit or because he seriously thought it unlikely.

“Like who?” he challenged. “I mean, my bets are on Jase. You've been hanging around him a lot, and you hardly know him. Maybe he holds some animosity toward you from Banff.”

“Why would you suspect him, Liam? You don't know anything bad about Jase, or you would have told me, I'm sure. If you have anything against him,” she peered into his eyes and searched there for the jealousy she suspected. A definite intensity streaked from his gaze to hers, and Briel pressed him further. “it's that maybe you're worried that Jase and I are involved. Maybe you doubt my word about not dating.”

“Should I?” Liam cast his eyes to the ground and casually traced the subtle stripes of his comforter with his index finger. “No, I don't doubt you.”

Briel didn't believe Liam for an instant but wouldn't show her hand with him, especially while he leaned his considerable strength so conspicuously above her reclining form on the bed. Regardless of his intentions toward her, Liam would prove shrewd and powerful at the very least. He would more likely manipulate Briel into acquiescence than persuade her gently.

“Look, I don't know what I want right now, but I need to investigate some options,” she stated flatly, leaning herself up on her elbows so that she could scoot back in the bed. “Do you have a computer I could use?” she changed the subject, finishing her motion until she sat fully upright. Even though she hadn't freed herself, she had to smile at the apparent frustration in Liam's face.

“Why?” Liam queried, not letting his surprise interrupt his focus.

Whatever she tried, she felt certain that he would adjust easily. Still, his domineering attitude raised her ire and, though she didn't normally succumb to her hot-headed impulses, she lunged up out of the bed. “Does it matter? I just need one. I need to contact Sara.”

Liam's hands arrest her midair, as he grabbed her by the shoulders. With the heaviness still clinging to her body, she couldn't resist his firm strength, but she squirmed petulantly.

“Let me up!” she managed to twist herself free.

“Briel, you shouldn't push yourself. You should probably be in the hospital, but I know how you hate the drama.” He didn't remove his hands from her arms, and his presence felt more than restraining. “Why do you really need a computer?” Annoyance definitely colored his tone now.

“What are you talking about?” Briel spat at him. For some reason, Liam sounded insulted by her request.

For an instant, Liam looked like a trapped animal, and Briel wondered what he didn’t want to tell her. “I talked to Drew, remember? I know what's been happening with your computer.” Liam pressed. “As a matter of fact, I did some digging on your desktop when I was there last week. You should really update your security software. And you're entirely too forthcoming with this computer guy – I read your conversations. The Briel I know would never reveal so much information. I bet you even talked to him last night!” His admission would have sent her through the roof in anger, but his tightening grip wrenched her mind from its incensed thoughts. When she glanced down, her skin had taken on a white heat under his fingers. “Sorry,” he stated, finally releasing her arms.

Briel hadn't foreseen such a reaction. True, he could have manufactured his jealous response, but he seemed altogether too angry about the whole computer thing. Apparently, Liam had other motives besides flowers to break into her house the week before. How Liam could manage to hack her computer, Briel couldn't imagine.

“You're blowing this way out of proportion,” she evaded even though his words stirred misgivings in her mind. “This computer contact is just someone I met on a previous mission.” As if you have any right to an explanation! she sassed silently.

“You don't know that. You don't even know who he is. For all you know, he could be responsible for everything that's been happening to you. He could be playing with your mind, too.” Liam leaned over her where she sat, his frustration approximating anger. “You're not thinking clearly, Briel. I knew it when you broke up with me, and I’ve seen it constantly since.”

Though her natural contrariness rose against him, he was right; Briel knew that. She had no excuse for the sheer thoughtlessness of bringing an unknown entity into her business.

“For years, you told me yourself, you've sailed pretty smoothly. You contact this person, and your world starts to fall apart.”

I broke up with you, and my world started to fall apart, too, she corrected mentally. He was really starting to get on her nerves. She remembered Ted’s instruction to trust her instincts, and she knew he was right.

“Liam, are you holding me hostage?” Though she had poured as much vehemence into her words as possible, a smile spread across Liam's face.

“Sounds tempting, but no,” he seemed to force himself to return to a lighter tone. “Just be still so I don't have to handcuff you to the bed. You need to rest.”

“Well, if not, then where is my cell phone? I need to call Nessa.”

Liam's eyes narrowed and his smile grew hard. “I didn't have time to get both your things and you out of the fire. I had to choose.”

Cursing herself, Briel wished that she had bothered to memorize important phone numbers rather than just store them in her phone.

“Do you have Nessa's number?”

One side of Liam's mouth lifted in a skeptical smirk, “Honestly, Briel. Nessa?”

No, he wouldn't have Nessa's number - seeing as they couldn't stand each other.

Though every excuse Liam presented seemed legitimate, somehow Briel felt like Liam didn't want her to contact anyone. He obviously enjoyed the rescuer role.

“Just wait until you rest a little, and I'll drive you wherever you need.”

The overprotective act finally pressed Briel over the edge. When he leaned in as if to kiss her, Briel averted her face in irritation. “Have I somehow been unclear?”

Even with every ounce of vitriol she poured into the question, Liam seemed unaffected. “I'm just giving you every opportunity to change your mind,” he teased.

Though she wanted to hit him for his insensitivity, Briel forced herself to breathe evenly. She hated to betray the delicacy of her current state of mind. I am completely crazy, she told herself.

Still, the fire prove she wasn't just paranoid. Though she could drum up a reasonable explanation for her captivity in Mexico, she could not so easily dismiss the fire. Not back safe in the U.S. away from Jack Buckley. She remembered a joke one of her coworkers at the Bureau liked to make. “Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone's not out to get you.” Briel managed a gentle laugh.

As she assessed the new reality of her situation, Liam droned on about the details of the fire: where it seemed to have started, how Briel had obviously been targeted. With half of her brain, she listened and analyzed, but the other half whirled with the insecurity that unchecked emotion seemed to be wreaking on her psyche. Briel could not function in her current capacity if her self-confidence faltered.

I've never met anyone more competent than you.

The memory thrust itself into her mind unexpectedly, but the effect was immediate; she knew the truth of the statement. For her entire adult life, this truth had consistently proven the case: Briel would not be out-maneuvered. Briel would not lose her cool. Her mind threw off the stupor that had muddled her thoughts since she awoke, and she began assessing her surroundings and her situation.

When Liam seated himself back on the edge of the bed, her heart didn't stutter or her mind fog like it had in her apartment. While she certainly felt the rush of butterflies in her stomach, she retained full use of her faculties. Liam would have felt insulted had he seen the indifference inside her mind. A smile curved the corners of her mouth, and Liam seemed to recognize the implied challenge immediately. His body stiffened slightly as he watched his advantage slip.

“Bang, bang, bang!” the door suddenly demanded.

Despite her new confidence, Briel jumped at the interruption. Liam did the same, however, and Briel couldn't help an internal grin. “Expecting guests?” she smirked.

“No, I'm not,” he growled in reply.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

“Liam!” the muffled voice of Jase demanded. “Liam, it's Jase. I need to talk to you.”

Liam's eyes narrowed, and Briel responded in kind. Not having any clear idea of who had targeted her, Briel had considered both Jase and Liam. Either way, their meeting here would help her out of a jam. Jase could do very little to harm Briel with Liam around. And now that someone would know her location, Briel would not let herself remain imprisoned in Liam's apartment.

Rising lithely, Liam stalked to the door, opening it into Jase's watchful face. Though she held misgivings regarding Jase, his presence brought a measure of relief. At least Jase could handle Liam.

Briel's breathing calmed further when she saw Nessa. No matter the others' intentions, Nessa would intend good for Briel. Perhaps Nessa showed poor judgment in whom she trusted, but Briel could trust her intention.

“Did you hear about the fire...?” Jase began, scrutinizing Liam's face, more demanding than questioning. His interrogation stopped when he spied Briel on the bed. Nessa caught sight of her at the same time, and both of their faces wavered between embarrassment and shock.

“Oh, Briel!” Nessa gushed once she had recovered, rushing into the room before Liam could stop her. She charged immediately to the bed where Briel lay, wrapping her arms around Briel. “You're okay!”

Briel cringed from the physical contact, not because she rejected Nessa's concern, but because Briel had never felt particularly comfortable with overt displays of affection.

“I'm fine,” Briel asserted, trying hard not to stiffen as Nessa embraced her. When Nessa sat up to assess the validity of her words, Briel swung her legs off of the bed. The sight of her pajama shorts made her suddenly self-conscious.

“I'm glad you thought to look for me here, Nessa. Liam and I were just lamenting the fact that I couldn't call you. I had your number stored in my phone, which was, I guess, destroyed by the fire.”

Liam didn't look glad, and he stood fully erect between herself and Jase seemingly poised for battle. What did he expect Jase to do? What would Liam do if Jase did have something planned? Between the two men, Briel would choose Jase both for ability and for character. She scoffed at herself at the latter thought, but she knew its truth. In either case, Briel celebrated their distraction with each other because it allowed her more space to effect her escape.

Placing her feet firmly on the floor, Briel peered directly at Nessa, ignoring the men's posturing in the middle of the room. “I would love to borrow some clothes until I can buy some,” she begged, glancing significantly at her pajamas.

“Of course,” Nessa offered eagerly.

With one swift movement, Briel raised herself from the bed and crossed the room to the door, smirking internally at Liam's look of irritation as he skirted Jase to follow directly behind her. When Jase tried to step between them, Briel put out her hand to restrain him. Instead of passing through the door, she leaned as close to Liam as possible, raising herself to kiss his cheek before walking onto his patio. After an entire morning of enduring his mental games, she enjoyed playing one of her own.

“Thanks for pulling me from the fire,” she purred before stepping back and flashing a smile his way.

“I really think you should rest,” he asserted angrily. “Nessa can bring your clothes over here.” Briel couldn't discern what created the sentiment more: her kiss or his loss of control.

“I told you, I'm fine,” Briel insisted dismissively, weaving one arm through Nessa's. Nessa had drifted across the room to the door, appearing slightly befuddled. “I'll call you later. Maybe you can take me out to dinner tonight since I don't have a kitchen.” Briel stared into Liam's eyes and saw them twinkle with some sort of amusement at her display. In response, she smiled imperceptibly but sardonically and turned to walk out the door. With all of Liam’s insanity, she had formed a suspicion about hi,

Liam seemed to protest awfully hard against her connection with Ted. Maybe he did so because he was actually worried about her. Maybe he did so because her communication with the unknown entity competed with her connection with Liam. Or, her craziest theory, he railed against Ted to hide the fact that he was Ted. The idea held perhaps even more danger than her theory about Jase. Jase was the past, a long-ago mourned loss that was shrouded in the mists of pleasant and naïve memory. Liam was a present allure, an addiction she had barely escaped and every moment still fought her attraction for. Before she gave Liam credit for being Ted, Briel would have to know without a doubt. She had enough danger in her life – she did not need to add his.

Regardless of her uncertainty, a new thought had formed in Briel's mind. She would not give in to her peevish weakness – she liked what Ted, whoever he may be, had declared about her. She was competent to meet the challenge. She determined to treat her current situation as she would any mission, gathering intel and making a plan of action. So what if this time she were the target? She made herself a target whenever she interfered with evil; when she drew her gun, she became an enemy to criminals. Internally, she determined not to let the motivations of her foes undermine her ability to confront them. She would just face whoever pursued her for herself now instead of for someone else. Ted had reminded her how competently she could undertake such a task.

“I look forward to it,” Liam conceded behind her, and Briel sensed a double meaning in his words. “Call me tonight.”

For the time being, that call would not come. Once Briel and her companions had climbed down the staircase to the ground floor from Liam's second level apartment, Briel turned casually to Nessa.

“Hey, Nessa. Do you know if my car burned up, too?”

“I'm really not sure,” she returned. “From what I understand, it was a really hot fire and not much remains. Did you park in the garage?”

“I did, but would you mind driving me by there anyway? I'd like to see it.”

From behind her, Jase spoke for the first time. “Briel, are you okay?” His tone did not reflect the emotional concern a friend might have, but some level of prodding for information.

She turned to face him, her earlier benevolence evaporating and drying up with the fire that had destroyed her home. “I'm a little shaken up, but I'll be fine. Why?” She glared into his eyes, daring him to show whatever hand he seemed to be playing.

“No reason. It's just that your house burned down. I would expect a little more dismay.” He chuckled, and Briel relaxed a little when she saw no challenge in his gaze.

“You know me better than that,” Briel returned.

“I guess I should,” he smirked. Definitely amused, she figured.

“Hey, Jase? Would you do something for me?” Briel volunteered spontaneously. Regardless of her current paranoia, she would use whatever resources presented themselves to her, and Jase would no doubt prove a valuable resource if she could acquire even his temporary cooperation.

“Probably,” he allowed.

“I want to look around my house, but I'm concerned that they won't let me in if I tell them I'm the owner. Would you mind giving them your ID so they'll let us into the crime scene?”

“No problem,” he responded easily, and Briel felt herself relax even more.

The trio lowered themselves into Jase's Astin Martin, and Jase pointed his car toward Briel's house.

“Nice car,” Briel stated pointedly. “Is this a perk?” She saw him wince at her jab.

“Yes,” his tone took on a defiance. “I figured just because I rejected the lifestyle doesn't mean I have to return the material benefits. It’s the Code.” With his final words, his bitterness melted, and Briel read his memory of Terrence. Maybe the whole material gain was one of the friend’s allowances for each other.

When he turned back toward the townhouse, Briel rolled her eyes at the back of his head. Nessa, though, turned to him with a solicitous expression and reached across to take his hand. He has completely taken her in, Briel lamented. Despite his most recent display of civility, Briel considered it a distinct possibility that Jase merely played the part of the penitent and didn't deserve the title, but she remained silent through the remainder of the drive, allowing Nessa to change the subject to less contentious topics. No more mindless acceptance of motives, no more letting herself be vulnerable – the stakes had just risen, and she couldn’t afford to relax.