And that is how we are. By strength of will we cut off our inner intuitive knowledge from admitted consciousness. This causes a state of dread, or apprehension, which makes the blow ten times worse when it does fall. – D. H. Lawrence

I would love to get some coffee again if you have time. I have a pretty thorough knowledge of coffee shops in Phoenix, so I can meet you where it’s convenient. – Nick’s text to Briel, March 14

“Briel, you really need to grow up.” The remembrance assaulted her as she drifted closer to seeing the Millers. Her mind unwittingly flew back to the period after she had finished her first month of the Miller mission. She actually jumped at the unexpected clarity of Liam's voice, barely able to avoid looking around for its owner. I need more rest, she chastised herself before allowing the memory to flow unrestrained through her mind.

“You wish I would, I know.” The past Briel had turned on Liam, pinning her icy gaze on him.

The corner of his mouth curved up seductively, “Of course not,” he lied. Whatever he may say, Briel knew how many times he had pressed her to raise the intensity of their relationship.

“I'm not talking about sleeping with him,” Briel spat at Liam despite her determination to stay collected. “I just don't like playing games.”

As Briel spoke, Liam had strolled from his spot leaning casually against the wall in the living room and moved stealthily into the kitchen where Briel prepared their drinks. Suddenly slipping into her vision, mere inches from her face, he reached up and gripped her hair with his right hand, stealing her breath with the strength of his touch.

“Briel, you and I both know how much you love games,” he goaded her. “If you're having trouble handling this assignment, you should let me give you a few pointers.” With these words, Liam bent his face and stroked his lips in a line that burned down her cheek. She closed her eyes involuntarily.

No matter how long they had dated, Briel constantly struggled with ambivalence when Liam kissed her. His touch always wrenched her out of her disciplined self-control, a fact which she both hated and craved. Though of average height, he had sculpted his physique until every line seemed etched from the King David; his white blond hair contrasted with his almost jet-black eyes and created such a stark contrast that one or the other seemed unreal; and some person or instinct had so trained him that he knew every seduction that could overcome a woman's self-control. In no way could she deny his physical attractiveness. Still, Briel had managed to resist him, a point of pride for her. Sometimes she wondered if she dated Liam to challenge herself, to immunize her hormones against other men's lures. It certainly seemed an effective method of strengthening her self-control.

His kisses, though, did not lure her in the way they should. Something in them always sent up Briel's radar, a signal saying “It's an act. He just wants a challenge, and you're the biggest challenge around.”

She could not honestly call his affection for her artless. In fact, she knew him capable of manipulation. Still, maybe he really did care. Maybe he just didn't know how to show sincerity after so many years of pretending. Briel tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Um,” Briel raised up on her toes to kiss him, planning to use the gesture as a farewell. Liam, ambushed her intentions. Instead, he wrapped his left arm around her waist in a vice grip and pulled her the rest of the way to him until his breath warmed her neck.

Despite her intent, she couldn't speak as he wove his fingers back through her hair and hungrily pulled her mouth to his. Briel could not remember what she had meant to say. Until her feet left the ground, she could not think to resist him. When he lifted her by the arm woven behind her back and began to carry her to the couch, Briel awoke from her stupor.

“Put me down,” she commanded breathlessly, breaking off the kiss.

“Don't tease, Briel. It's not nice,” he whispered. His lips never lost contact with her face.

“You did this on purpose,” Briel accused. “You knew what this would do to me.”

At her admission, Liam's face broke into a mischievous smile. “Of course, I did,” he conceded, lowering her to the ground but not releasing her.

“Now, let me go,” she demanded, this time more forcefully.

“Are you going to make me?” The smile did not leave his lips.

“Don't tempt me,” Briel warned earnestly, though inside she did not really want to take the disagreement to such a level of intensity.

His grin stretched the limits of his skin. “Oh, Briel,” he kissed her again, “You really do need to loosen up.”

Finally, when he released her, Briel used all her will-power to step away from him without staggering. “I think that's enough for tonight, Liam,” she started for the door, sounding peeved.

“Yes, I think I've done my job here,” he agreed easily. “I'll just see you in the morning.” His tone proved a ruse, however, and before Briel could stop him, he grabbed her in both arms and crushed his lips to hers once again. Time suspended, and Briel forgot to protest. When she felt her breath straining against her lungs, Liam released her and strolled out the door.

“Now that is enough for tonight,” he chuckled without looking back.

For a full minute, Briel stood with her back against the secured front door waiting for her heartbeat to steady. As soon as she felt stable, Briel spun rapidly to face the sheetrock beside the door and punched it with all her might, leaving behind a dent in the shape of her fist.

Thirty minutes later, Briel sat on her couch, head in her hands, and tried to explain the indentation to Nessa. In Nessa's few weeks of work with the team, she had somehow managed to befriend Briel, though Briel made sure to keep her at arms-length as much as possible. “He just took advantage of a moment of weakness. There's really no excuse for my dramatic reaction.”

“Why do you do this to yourself, Briel? Why do you date him? It's like you're playing physical Russian roulette. Someday, the bullet will fly.”

Briel tried not to smile at the idea of the challenge. She sensed that such a reaction might set off Nessa's intuition and make her doubt Briel's sanity.

“No, it's not that bad.”

“Briel, there's a hole in the wall.” Nessa glanced at Briel significantly. “What made you so vulnerable anyway? You're usually better than this.”

Leave it to Nessa to keep digging until she found the truth. Briel didn't want to explain, but Nessa would keep pressing. Liam had found her unusually susceptible when he had arrived at her apartment. Though she didn't want to admit it, she knew the reason.

“We were talking about my latest case,” Briel frowned at her admission.

“The Miller case? Why would talking about that make you susceptible to Liam?”

Ugh, thought Briel. She hadn't planned on expounding. Still, she didn't know how to avoid the topic now that she had initiated it.

“Fine. Now that Brendon has fallen off the map, we need a way to access ProtoComm's files,” Briel worked to portray professional objectivity. “The best way to do that is to stay in contact with Felicity Miller,” Briel finished academically.

“That explains exactly nothing,” Nessa sassed, her lips pursed in obvious disbelief. “Are you in love with Brendon Miller? I never pictured you as the type.”

“No!” Briel countered. “Never! You’re right – that is not my type. And I’m not in love with anyone. That is a huge overstatement. It’s more that I have guilt issues.”

“What do guilt issues have to do with Liam?” Nessa pressed doggedly. She seemed to ask all the questions Briel wished to avoid.

“Well,” Briel hesitated, “it’s not about Liam. Liam just knows how to rile me up. He doesn’t like my reaction to my current mark.”

“I mean, a hole in the wall. That is a pretty dramatic reaction.”

“To Liam, not Nick.”

“Nick?”

Damn it! “Felicity’s brother. Nick is my best access to information, and he kind of has a thing for me.”

“So…it’s a honeypot op?” Nessa teased.

“Nothing that dramatic…Certainly not in the traditional sense. He’s just an incredibly nice person – kind of surprised, after what his sister has done. I hate the idea that he’s going to be hurt by all this. His sister and Jase, his brother-in-law’s company. He’s like this innocent who is about to lose his innocence. It kind of breaks my heart.”

As Briel spoke, Nessa turned in the desk chair to face Briel's laptop which sat on the small desk behind the sofa. “I don’t get it, Briel. What's the big deal? You must have done this kind of thing a hundred times before.” Nessa started typing, and Briel watched as the files on the ProtoComm operation appeared on the screen.

“Not like this,” Briel insisted. “He's almost stupidly naïve, like he has complete faith in his sister. He believes anything I say, too.”

“He's a computer nerd, though. They’re never as susceptible to personal considerations as other people, right? He’s probably used to rejection...” Nessa trailed off, and Briel heard a low breath escape her friend's lips. “Or not,” Nessa sighed slowly.

“What?” Briel hedged. “You’re probably right. I’m probably overthinking.”

“Or in total denial…” Nessa paused for effect. “Briel, he's gorgeous! I don’t know how you could stay unaffected by a man like that.”

“Please! As if that kind of thing affects me. I mean, I’ve dated Liam for half a year! Why would a computer nerd affect me?”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that – your walls could use a few more holes.”

“It’s not about physical attraction. It's just that,” Briel tried to rationally explain away her susceptibility, “Liam sneaked up on me when I was feeling guilty and caught me off guard, that's all.”

“You must really like this guy,” Nessa accused.

“I really like Nick because I kissed Liam? That makes no sense, Nessa.”

“Sure it does,” Nessa disagreed. “When has Liam ever succeeded in working you up this much? I think you were already worked up – thinking about the unbelievably good-looking Nick Alexander.”

“Worked up?” Briel scoffed. “That's an interesting way of saying it, but no. That's not what happened.”

“You were thinking about Nick, and it made you …kissable. And,” Nessa's face took on a look of excited discovery, “maybe Liam can tell that you feel something for this guy, so he’s trying to make you stop thinking about Nick. Liam is jealous!”

“Ugh! Stop, Nessa. You're making me sick to my stomach. I'm dating Liam, sometimes we kiss.”

“Uh, huh,” Nessa scoffed skeptically. “I can't believe this Nick guy has affected you this way.”

“I like him, but not like that. I don't mind having coffee with him if it means I get the names from ProtoComm. I've had worse assignments.”

Nessa laughed, “I'll say.” She gawked at Nick's picture again. “Just be careful, Briel. Getting involved with material can be very dangerous.”

“He's not material, and I'm not going to get involved. Now lay off, okay? I'm not interested in him.”

“You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, Briel, but I'm not thinking you're going to make it through this unscathed.” Nessa seemed unable to let the topic drop, and Briel watched in relief as her friend took herself out of the situation. “I'll see you in the morning,” Nessa stood to her feet, slipping on her light jacket. “Just don't worry about it – I could be way off. Get some sleep.” Nessa claimed the possibility of error, her expression said otherwise.

“Maybe you are way off,” Briel moaned, rubbing her hand across the dent in the sheetrock once the door had shut behind Nessa, “and maybe you're not.” Something had changed in Briel, whether caused by guilt over her current case or regrets over the choices she had made in the past. Whatever the case, she didn’t intend to let emotional considerations alter her course. If there was any chance Nessa was right, Briel needed to halt the progress immediately.