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Chapter Text

Eight months after Operation Silent Shadow (Lioness Redemption)

The wind whipped low over the tarmac as the dust settled around the QRF team, boots pounding one by one toward the waiting Gulfstream aircraft. Josie had landed the helicopter minutes earlier, guiding the team safely through the last leg of extraction before handing controls to the ground crew and jogging across the pad to join them. The extraction had been clean, quiet recon in northern Georgia, U.S., where a suspected paramilitary training site hidden deep in the Chattahoochee National Forest had drawn quiet Agency attention. The team had spent two days tracking foot traffic, documenting weapons caches, and mapping the terrain for potential future use. No firefights. No engagement. Just silent cameras, steady hands, and boots moving through pine-covered silence. Cruz always preferred it that way.

Josie pulled off her helmet, revealing the twin French braids she always wore when she flew, practical, tight, and unmistakably her. She ran a hand along the back of her neck, damp from sweat and wind. Her honey brown eyes swept the clearing one last time before following Cruz up the ramp. “That’s three ops in a row without anyone trying to blow us up,” she said with a tired smirk. “Kind of makes me nervous. Like the universe is charging up something bigger.”

She paused, then added with a dry laugh, “You know how it goes, calm always comes before the next shitstorm.”

Cruz gave her a sidelong glance. “You miss the chaos?”

Josie’s voice dipped low as she leaned in, close enough for only Cruz to hear. “I miss the part where you check on me after......naked.” She smirked, with eyes twinkling so only Cruz could see her expression.

Cruz blinked, her mouth twitching.  Always caught off guard by Josie's seductive humor. The others moved around them, Randy joking with Two Cups, Tex already half-asleep in his seat, but Cruz’s world narrowed to Josie.

Cruz gently squeezed her hand, careful to keep it discreet. “We’ll debrief. Then home.”  She leaned in closer for only Josie to hear. "I'll make sure to check on you.....completely naked." She smirked and squeezed her wife's hand.

Wife.

The word still rang different in her chest. They had married within a month of returning from Venezuela, neither of them wanting to wait once the question had been asked and answered by each other. No frill, just a simple D.C. courthouse wedding, vows spoken with hands clasped and eyes locked. Afterward, a steakhouse dinner with their chosen family—the QRF, who had shown up in full force. That was all they needed.

And all of them had indeed shown up, Randy in a collared shirt he clearly hated, Two Cups pretending to complain about wearing dress shoes, Tex handing them a silver flask before the vows were even done, Tucker quietly setting a small, hand-carved wooden box on the table with their initials burned into the lid, and Bobby standing to Cruz's right during the vows, steady and protective like the sister she never had. Joe had stood in the back of the room, arms folded, eyes quiet. Cruz never forgot that.

Now, sitting across from Josie in the belly of the plane, she saw that look again—the peace. The trust. Josie smiled wholeheartedly, completely content with her life.

After debriefing on the Georgia mission, the team was cleared for a few days of downtime. By mid-afternoon, Cruz and Josie were driving up the tree-lined street to their colonial house in McLean. The brick exterior and black shutters were modest, the kind of home that blended into the quiet Virginia neighborhood. But to them, it was the only place that ever felt like safety.

As they entered their home, Josie dropped her go-bag by the front door and kicked off her boots. Cruz followed behind her, locking the door before slipping off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack they’d picked out together months ago.

Josie stretched with a groan, rolling her neck. "God, I forgot how stiff I get when I haven’t flown for more than a couple hours at a time."

Cruz arched an eyebrow. "You flew for six."

Josie grinned. "Exactly. Hence the whining."

Cruz smirked and stepped closer, brushing a hand along Josie’s arm. "Want me to rub your shoulders?"

Josie leaned in, resting her forehead briefly against Cruz’s. "Later, baby. First, I need a hot shower and a cold drink." She kissed Cruz through a smile.

She started up the stairs, and Cruz hesitated only a minute before following. The bathroom filled quickly with steam, the familiar hiss of water against tile echoing in the cozy space. Josie undid her braids, revealing the wavy, long hair and stripped down, stepping beneath the spray with a low groan of relief. When Cruz stepped in behind her a moment later, Josie didn’t turn—she just leaned back into her, letting Cruz wrap both arms around her waist.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

The water poured over them, washing away the grime of Georgia, the noise, the ache in their joints. Cruz pressed her lips softly to Josie’s shoulder.

"Mmm, you taste good," she murmured with a lazy grin, her voice low and warm against Josie’s skin.

Josie’s hand found hers, fingers threading gently. "You like Georgia dirt?" she teased, her voice playful, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

They took their time, letting desire build slowly beneath the warm spray. Cruz’s hands moved over Josie’s body with care, the steam surrounding. She pressed Josie gently against the tiled wall, her lips finding Josie’s with increasing urgency. Josie responded instantly, a soft gasp escaping her mouth as her hands roamed Cruz’s slick back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Their lovemaking was unhurried, full of soft moans. Cruz cradled Josie’s face, grounding herself in every expression, every breath, as their bodies moved together with aching tenderness. The water cascaded over them, disguising the sounds of pleasure they couldn’t hold back. Cruz’s hand slid between Josie’s thighs, her fingers moving with exquisite care and confidence, drawing soft gasps from Josie’s lips. Josie clung to her, her nails lightly raking down Cruz’s back as her body trembled as she crashed in pleasure. When Josie came, it was quiet and deep—like waves rolling through her, steady and overwhelming. She held Cruz close "Cruz", she whispered with lust in her voice. Then, after a few long moments of breathless closeness, Josie turned them slowly so that Cruz was against the wall now, her eyes dark with love and longing. Her fingers found Cruz’s heat, and Cruz gasped, her forehead falling against Josie’s shoulder as pleasure rippled through her in waves. They clung to each other, mouths pressing together as Cruz came undone, lost in the feel of each other, in the safety of their shared world.

After, they stayed in each other’s arms, letting the water wash over their flushed skin. As they caught their breath, smiling in the afterglow, Cruz massaged shampoo into Josie’s scalp with slow, careful fingers, and Josie returned the favor with a grin, her nails lightly scratching Cruz’s back in playful affection. They kissed in between, soft, lingering touches to lips, shoulders, necks—small reminders that they were safe, together, and home. Nothing rushed. Just the quiet joy of being close in the one place the world couldn’t touch them.

After a few more minutes, they rinsed and toweled off, skin warm and flushed, breath slow and even. In the bedroom, they moved in sync, comfortable and close. Josie pulled on her favorite soft sweats and a worn tank top, while Cruz did the same, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they dressed.

Cruz went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and grabbed herself a cold beer, then reached for a bottled tea and set it on the counter. She popped the top off the beer, took a slow sip, then grabbed both drinks and made her way to the living room.

By the time Josie came downstairs in her sweats, hair damp and face relaxed, Cruz was already on the couch with the TV on low, legs stretched out, one arm draped across the backrest. She held out the tea without a word, and Josie smiled as she took it.

Josie dropped beside her with a content sigh, curling into Cruz’s side.

"Thanks, babe." She looked at her with grateful eyes.

"You good?" Cruz asked softly, her hand finding Josie’s waist.

Josie nodded. "Just tired. But yeah. These are my favorite missions. No blood. No noise. No screaming or countdowns or detonations in my ear. Just us doing what we do—tight, clean work, like clockwork."

She leaned her head back against Cruz’s shoulder, letting out a long, satisfied exhale. "And then we come home to this."

Cruz gave a quiet sigh, pulling her in a little closer. "This is the part we never trained for."

Josie tilted her head up to look at her, smiling softly. "And still somehow, we’re good at it."

Cruz laughed softly and kissed the top of her head. "We earned this."

Josie turned a little, resting her cheek against Cruz’s chest. "I love spending time with my wife." There was a glint in her eye as always.

Cruz chuckled softly, brushing her fingers through Josie’s damp hair. "Well, I like hanging out with my wife too. She's pretty hot," she said with a grin, then brought a finger to her lips with a playful shushing sound, like it was a secret they were lucky to share.

Josie swatted her lightly. "Well, my wife is pretty hot too," she said, grinning as she leaned in to press a kiss to Cruz's lips. "I guess we’re both lucky, then."

Josie teasingly brought up the shower sex with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, I really love how spontaneous you are in the shower," she said, her voice lilting with flirtation.

Cruz blushed instantly, her cheeks turning that familiar pink Josie adored. She ducked her head slightly but smiled as she leaned into Josie. "You always say that like I planned it. You know I can't help myself with you."

Josie chuckled, her fingers brushing over Cruz’s flushed cheek. "Exactly. That’s why I love it. And I love that I can still make you blush."

Cruz grinned and rolled her eyes affectionately. "You live to embarrass me."

"No," Josie said, leaning in and kissing her slowly, sweetly. "I live to love you. The blushes are just a bonus."

Cruz sighed into the kiss, her heart full. "God, I’m such a sucker for you."

"You’re my sucker," Josie said with a playful wink. They both laughed, sinking further into the couch, fingers intertwined, wrapped in the kind of intimacy that only came after years of loving someone without condition.

They stayed quiet for a bit, letting the TV sounds in the background. Then Josie whispered, "I like when we get to be boring. You and me. Couch, sweatpants, bad TV."

Cruz smiled against her temple. "I could get used to this." She smirked.

They relished that stillness, the rare chance to be just them—wives, not warriors—in a home built on everything they cherished.

They stayed like that until evening crept in, limbs tangled, voices quiet. Eventually, they ordered Chinese takeout—nothing fancy, just comfort food. Josie laughed when Cruz stole the last potsticker, and Josie grinned as Cruz fed her a bite of lo mein with chopsticks, being deliberately messy. They lounged in the dim golden light of their living room, fully immersed in the serenity, savoring the peace they'd earned together.

They had been home a few days, enjoying the stillness of being home when Cruz's phone buzzed....a secured alert flashing across the screen. She read it once, then again, her body already moving before her mind caught up. It was a priority summons to Langley. It was an urgent alert which required her to leave immediately.

She didn’t say much to Josie, just that it was work, and she'd be back soon. Josie, curled up in her reading chair with a novel in hand, looked up at her with calm understanding. This was quite normal.  Cruz came to her to give her a quick kiss and Josie smiled sweetly as Cruz left.

The drive to Langley was quiet. Cruz had left before dusk, the city still bathed in that pale blue silence that comes just before sunset. She barely registered the road beneath her tires—her mind already racing ahead, her instincts stirring with unease. Secured alerts weren’t issued without reason. And this one had come fast, with very few words and too much urgency.

Josie had stayed curled in her reading chair when Cruz slipped out, a soft light from the side table casting a warm halo around her. She hadn’t asked questions. She didn’t need to. This kind of sudden summons was part of the world they lived in.

Now at Langley, Cruz stepped into the operations room where Kaitlyn was already waiting. Josie’s voice echoed in her mind—calm always comes before the next storm. At the time, it had made them both laugh. Now, it clung to her like a warning bell.

But it wasn’t Kaitlyn that made her stomach drop, it was the sight of Joe. Calm. Composed. Present.

Joe hadn’t been part of an op since Silent Shadow in Venezuela, the QRF’s last truly high-stakes mission. If she was back now, it was because whatever this was carried the need for both steel and discretion. The tension in the room had been palpable from the moment Cruz stepped in.

Kaitlyn motioned for her to sit, her expression unreadable. There was no small talk, no pleasantries. Just a quiet click of the remote and the heavy silence of something about to shift.

"We’ve got a developing situation out of Riyadh," Kaitlyn had said, wasting no time as she dimmed the lights and brought up the satellite imagery.

Joe remained near the back of the room, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

"Funding networks tied to known extremists have resumed movement—more active than we’ve seen since Asmar Amrohi was responsible for the funding."

Cruz's eyes widened. She waited, though the hairs on the back of her neck rose at the sound of Amrohi’s name. She'd never expected to hear that name again.

"This isn’t Amrohi’s old network resurfacing," Joe added. "Amrohi's chain was dismantled. What we’re seeing now is cleaner, sharper."

The next slide appeared: a professional headshot. A man in his early forties. Neatly trimmed beard, wearing an Armani suit.

"His name is Tariq Al-Hamdan," Kaitlyn began, clicking the remote to highlight his face on the projector. "He's a Saudi financier. Educated in the UK and highly respected in diplomatic and economic circles. On the surface, he’s clean.  He has private holdings, humanitarian projects, high-level donors in the arts and cultural sectors. But underneath that veneer, he's pushing millions through black-market channels. We’ve tracked funds tied to crypto laundering, shell corporations, and forged NGO pipelines."

She paused, letting the details settle. "The movements are precise, intentional, and spreading across multiple extremist networks in Northern Africa and the Middle East. He’s not just bankrolling chaos. He’s structuring it."

Then her eyes turned to Cruz. "And this time, it’s not a network we’re targeting. It’s him directly.  We have green light for Operation Duskfire."

Cruz’s mouth set into a hard line.

Kaitlyn took a breath and turned to Cruz fully, her tone shifting from professional to something slower, more deliberate, like she understood the bomb she was about to drop.

"There’s another layer to this," she said quietly, locking eyes with Cruz and exhaling.

"Tariq Al-Hamdan is married to Aaliyah Amrohi and they have a child together."

The words didn’t just fall—they exploded. 

It hit Cruz like a fist to the ribs. Her breath caught before she could stop it, a sharp twist of grief and disbelief winding through her chest.

Aaliyah.

That name, spoken aloud after so many years of silence, pulled her backward, through memory, through guilt, through everything she had tried to bury. 

Cruz’s hands curled slightly at her sides, grounding herself. She forced herself to meet Kaitlyn’s gaze.  Aaliyah. Alive. Married. Tangled again in a world Cruz once tore apart.

Joe didn’t say anything. She just looked at Cruz the way only someone who had once handled her could, as if she already knew exactly where Cruz’s thoughts had gone.

Kaitlyn and Joe exchanged a glance, briefly. They both knew what the mention of the Amrohi name, especially Aaliyah’s, would stir in Cruz.

Joe stepped closer, watching Cruz as she processed the names and connections unraveling in front of her. Her voice was low but firm when she spoke. "I'm going to co-lead this op. Because of your history with Amrohi."

She paused, her tone softening. "I know this isn’t easy, but we don’t have time for hesitation. This mission is critical—Al-Hamdan is moving very quickly. We need you sharp, focused, and two steps ahead, Cruz."

Cruz gave a small nod, jaw tight. Her fingers trembled slightly at her sides, and her throat felt too tight to speak further. She exhaled a shaky breath, but it did little to steady her. Her heart was pounding in her ears, a dull roar of panic and emotion she couldn't quite suppress. Everything she had worked so hard to bury had been unearthed in seconds. She blinked hard, trying to maintain composure, but the burn behind her eyes betrayed the turmoil inside. Her entire body felt hot, unsettled, and exposed.

"I need a word, Joe," Cruz said quietly, her eyes never leaving the screen. Kaitlyn read the room instantly, this was something Cruz needed to process one-on-one. Without a word, she nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind her to give them space.

Cruz began to speak as soon as Kaitlyn exited.

"You know I’ll always put the mission above everything else," Cruz said, her voice low and rough. "But Jesus, Joe... you know what that mission did to me. I’ve worked hard to claw my way back to some version of a decent human being after what I did to her. I’ve moved on. Should I even be on this?" She tried desperately to remain composed.

Joe nodded her head immediately. "Kaitlyn and I discussed that. We asked the same question when Josie was selected as the Lioness for the mission in Venezuela. The answer then, and now, is yes. You’re still the right person for this mission."

Cruz’s jaw clenched.

Joe continued gently. "I know this is hard. I know what Aaliyah meant to you and what you had to do. That’s exactly why I’m co-leading this op. But Cruz, you’ll do the job. I have faith in you. So does Kaitlyn."

She paused, then added firmly, "And you probably won’t even see Aaliyah. She’s married to the target but she is not to be touched or engaged. Use your training. Set the past aside."

Cruz sat heavily in her chair, staring at the grainy image of Tariq Al-Hamdan on the screen. "Josie doesn’t even know about her. I never told her, not in detail. Just that I fell in love with someone during a mission. There was never a need to go further. But now..."

She trailed off, unsure.

After a moment of silence, she looked up, her voice barely steady. "I need you to give the team the full briefing tomorrow. I need to hear it again too, everything. In full detail."

Cruz could normally power through anything. Missions with moving parts, hostile terrain, moral gray zones—she could always compartmentalize. But the idea of standing in front of the team, of briefing Josie on a mission that involved Aaliyah... it knocked the breath from her lungs.

Looking Josie in the eye, knowing she had no idea who Aaliyah was, no idea what she had meant to Cruz, that was something she wasn’t sure she could do. Not yet.

Joe gave a single nod. "Ok....I will."

She hesitated for a moment before adding, more gently, "You’re not alone in this, Cruz. I know it doesn’t feel that way, but you’re not. And if you decide to tell Josie everything, you’ll know when the time is right."

Cruz gave a small nod, but her eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Her voice was quieter now. "It’s not about whether I want to tell her. It’s about whether I can look her in the eye and keep this part of myself hidden any longer. Not when Aaliyah’s name is back on a fucking briefing slide."

They let that sit between them.

Cruz finally stood, slow and measured. "I need some air. I’ll be ready by the time the team walks in tomorrow morning."

Joe touched her shoulder briefly. "Understood."

Cruz walked out. She could feel her chest tightening with each step, the weight of Aaliyah’s name still ringing in her ears. As she stepped into the quiet night air outside the building, she took a long, deliberate breath—but it barely cut through the fog inside her.

She had spent years trying to move past what happened in Mallorca, burying that part of herself under layers of duty, pain, and healing. But now, Aaliyah wasn’t just a memory—she was part of the next mission. A complication Cruz couldn’t compartmentalize. And the thought of going home to Josie, pretending like she wasn’t unraveling inside, felt unbearable.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and typed slowly, deliberately:

Staying overnight at Langley. Need to prep for tomorrow. You'll get an alert soon. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.

She stared at the word love for a long moment before hitting send. It brought her comfort and security—Josie’s love was her world, her peace. But tonight, those four letters felt like they were being shared with a ghost she hadn’t invited back into her life. The past she thought she’d dealt with had collided with the present in a way she never saw coming. It didn’t lessen what she felt for Josie—if anything, it made her love burn brighter for her—but it was clouded with conflict. The timing. The emotion. The unfinished grief and guilt she hadn’t known still existed.

She slipped the phone back in her pocket and leaned against the concrete wall outside Langley’s ops center, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Aaliyah was now right in front of her again.

And Cruz could not walk away from it.

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead as the QRF team filed into the operations briefing room at Camp Peary the following morning. No one spoke at first. The room held the silence only seasoned operatives could detect, a stillness with stress behind it. Chairs scraped as Bobby, Tucker, Two Cups, Randy, and Tex found their seats, Josie sliding in among them near the front.

As she sat, Josie glanced toward the back of the room, her eyes landing immediately on Cruz.

Cruz stood with her arms folded, posture rigid, jaw tight. To the others, she looked the same as always, serious, composed, every inch the seasoned leader they’d followed into danger more times than they could count. But Josie knew her better than anyone else. She recognized the strain in Cruz’s shoulders, the way her fingers flexed once and then went still, like she was trying to grip something inside and hold it together.

Josie knew then, this wasn’t just the end of their streak of light, clean missions. This was something that already had Cruz worried.

As Joe stepped to the front and dimmed the lights without ceremony, the team exchanged subtle glances. It didn’t go unnoticed that Cruz, normally the one leading mission briefs, was standing in the back, silent. Her absence at the helm said more than words ever could. A large screen flickered to life behind Joe, revealing the same photo Cruz had been shown in Langley, the poised face of Tariq Al-Hamdan, elegant in a dark suit, his smile subtle and unreadable.

“This operation falls under Tier-One clearance,” Joe began. “We have confirmed intelligence that terrorist financing operations, long dormant, have resumed out of Riyadh. Money’s moving in ways we haven’t seen since the Amrohi network.”

That name shifted the room. Not loudly. Just enough for everyone to sit a little straighter.

Randy gave a low whistle. “Didn’t we cut the head off that snake already?”

Joe clicked again. “We did.  Four years ago. But this is new blood.  A different face.”

A new image replaced the screen: Al-Hamdan’s passport photo. Then a flow chart appeared, outlining shell companies and bank transfers. The slide looked clean, clinical. But everyone in the room knew the carnage behind numbers like those.

"His name is Tariq Al-Hamdan."  Joe paused. “On the surface,” Joe continued, “he’s a respected Saudi banker. Educated in the UK. Philanthropic. Speaks four languages. Very clean business record. But he’s moving money into black market arms distribution across sub-Saharan Africa and Central Asia. He’s also doing it under the cover of diplomatic outreach programs and museum grants.”

Then came the next slide.

And Aaliyah Amrohi appeared.

A candid shot. Headscarf draped loosely, her eyes shining as she looked down at a young boy beside her. Maybe three years old. Cruz hadn’t seen this photo yet, it hit her like a punch to the gut. To see Aaliyah like that, unaware, caught in a moment of quiet joy, and to see it for the first time surrounded by the very people who knew what that image meant, it startled her. Her breath caught, heart stumbling in her chest, and though she remained outwardly still, something inside her buckled.

The silence thickened.

Randy leaned back in his chair. “So we’re just not gonna say it?”

“Say what?” Two Cups asked dryly.

“That she’s not just a name on the slide,” Randy said. “That we all know exactly who she is.”

Kaitlyn didn’t flinch. “You all remember correctly. That’s Aaliyah Amrohi, daughter of Asmar Amrohi and former fiancée of Ehsan Al Rashdi. Both eliminated.”

Cruz stayed silent.

Bobby scratched her head and said in low voice. “The op in Mallorca.”

“Correct,” Joe said, stepping forward. “The operation that dismantled Amrohi’s network. The operation where Cruz was the Lioness under the cover Zara Adid.”

Josie’s eyes moved slowly toward the back of the room, where Cruz continued to stand rigid, staring straight ahead. The image of Aaliyah and her son had clearly rattled her, and for a moment, Josie’s breath caught in her throat as she started to realize what this all meant.

Joe’s tone was calm. Professional. But not cold. Her eyes lingered briefly on Josie before she spoke again, as if acknowledging she was the one person in the room who hadn’t heard this information before. “As we all recall, Cruz’s mark was Aaliyah. Entry was gained through personal connection. The mission’s outcome was two confirmed kills, Amrohi and Al Rashdi. Inside the house.”

Josie’s spine stiffened. The details were clinical, delivered in briefing-room cadence, but they hit harder than she expected. She had always known there was a woman in Cruz’s past, someone she had loved and betrayed in the line of duty. But hearing it laid out, hearing Aaliyah’s name paired with Cruz’s cover and the brutal efficiency of what happened in that house, it was like finally finding the missing pieces to a puzzle she hadn’t realized she’d been assembling. Josie didn’t speak. She didn’t look around. She simply absorbed the truth in silence, the weight of it settling into her chest.

The air grew heavier, an unspoken tension winding through the room as boots scuffed and shoulders shifted. All of them, except Josie, had been present during Cruz's deep-cover mission as Zara Adid. They knew there had been physical intimacy within the mission between Cruz and Aaliyah.

They had always assumed Cruz did what needed to be done. The team never spoke of it. Not even Bobby, who was now closest to Cruz. But the way Cruz remained silent in the corner now, the weight behind her stillness, the careful way Joe handled the briefing instead of her, it stirred something deeper within them all. 

They suspected what only Joe and Josie had ever known for sure: that Cruz hadn't just slept with the mark. She had fallen in love with her.

None of them said it aloud. But the air in the room said it for them. The heavyness of history, of what had been done and what it cost, settled visibly on each member of the team.

“No engagement with Aaliyah at the time,” Joe continued, her voice steady. “She is not the target. But she is now married to Tariq Al-Hamdan. Their connection is our biggest complication.”

Someone let out a low whistle.

She paused, and though she didn’t say it, everyone in the room heard what wasn’t spoken. For the rest of the team, that connection had always been tactical, a necessity of Cruz’s deep-cover alias. They knew she had gone to lengths to gain access, including the physical bond forged with Aaliyah. But the silence from the back of the room, the way Cruz hadn’t said a word, carried an undercurrent that unsettled them.

Kaitlyn reappeared beside the screen. “Our mission is to neutralize Al-Hamdan. We don’t touch her or the child unless absolutely necessary. Al-Hamdan is currently operating out of Istanbul, Turkey. That will be our base of operations for now. All surveillance, intel gathering, and forward mission planning will begin there.”

“Understood,” Bobby said with a nod, the first to break the tension in the room.

Now, the pieces slid into place.

Kaitlyn turned off the projector. “Initial mission planning begins tomorrow. We deploy to Istanbul in four days. Be ready.”

The chairs scraped slowly as the team rose, murmurs low, steps reluctant. They filtered out in a steady line, a few nods exchanged, boots scuffing the floor. Tex walked over and clapped Cruz lightly on the shoulder.

Josie lingered, her feet unmoving as the others gathered their things and filed out, boots scuffing and door swinging closed behind them one by one. She didn’t say a word, but her stillness spoke volumes. A few glances were cast her way, Bobby’s brow furrowed, Two Cups gave a tight nod of understanding, but no one lingered. They all sensed it. Something unspoken hung in the air between Cruz and Josie. The last operatives exited, the door clicked shut behind them, and silence finally settled.

Josie slowly turned to face Cruz, her voice low and steady, heart braced for whatever truths the quiet might unveil.

She walked slowly up to Cruz. Cruz finally looked up, eyes meeting hers, sad, conflicted. Then she looked down again, unable to hold the gaze.

Josie gently reached out, cupping her chin and tilting her face back up. "Look at me, please," she said softly, the tenderness in her voice settling them both. "Are you ok?"

Cruz shook her head, silent but honest.

Josie took a breath, steadying herself before asking the question that had been building in her chest since the slide appeared. "I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth."  Josie's heart was in her throat, preparing for the response.  "Aaliyah Amrohi, is she the woman you told me about when we first met? The woman you were involved with when you were on your mission as a Lioness?"

Cruz's breath hitched, barely audible, but her eyes didn’t waver. "Yes. It’s her."

Josie nodded slowly, absorbing the truth in silence as her heart crashed in her chest. She could see it in Cruz, the way her shoulders had stayed stiff through the whole briefing, the way her jaw clenched even now. Aaliyah’s name didn’t just open a door, it reopened an old wound.

Cruz stepped forward and gently took her by the waist, her hands trembling slightly as they settled there. Her eyes locked with Josie’s, full of a vulnerability. "I love you, Josie," she said, looking pained.

Josie met her gaze, unwavering. "I know that. I don't doubt that, ever."

She took a breath, letting it out slowly. "But this, her, this mission. I can see how much it’s already affecting you. And it’s ok. You’re human. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t rattle something in me, too. Not because I doubt you, but because I can feel how deeply it cuts you."

She stepped in a little closer, voice softer but more grounded. "I’m not afraid of your past, Cruz. But I am afraid of what silence does to us. We’ve been through hell together......missions, blood, trauma, everything. We've never shut down. We never pushed each other out. We've fought for this, for each other. That doesn’t stop now, just because the past found its way into the room. We face it. Together. We talk through it. We lean in, not away from each other."

She hesitated, searching Cruz’s face. "Now I know why you didn’t come home last night. Why you stayed at Langley. And I get it, but we can’t start letting this get between us. We can’t let something from before take space in what we’ve built now. We have to hold the line."

Her voice cracked just slightly at the edge. Josie stepped closer, gently cupping Cruz’s face, her thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Because if we don’t talk, if we let silence take over, that’s when it starts to break down. We can't let that happen. Not to us."

Josie kept soothing her face.  Knowing Cruz needed it......Josie did too, to keep herself stable and steady.

"Now isn't the time or place, but we will need to talk about her, soon. We've never kept anything from each other, baby." Josie’s voice stayed steady, but inside, her emotions stirred beneath the surface. She trusted Cruz completely, of that there was no doubt, but the past returning so suddenly, so vividly, pressed hard against the edges of her heart. She knew they would face this together, but she also knew that love, no matter how strong, could still be at risk. 

Cruz gave a slight nod, her voice caught behind a knot of emotion she couldn’t untangle yet. She pulled Josie in tighter towards her. Josie came willingly, wrapping her arms around Cruz as she melted into her embrace.

Their lips met, soft, deliberate, and searching. Cruz pressed her forehead against Josie’s afterward, trying to find words but overwhelmed by all she felt.

“I will talk to you,” she whispered. “I promise. I just... I need to get my head straight first.”

Josie nodded, cupping Cruz’s face with both hands, her thumbs brushing gently over her cheekbones. “I know. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cruz’s eyes welled, her voice trembling. “I love you so much.”

Josie kissed her again, slower this time, grounding. “I love you too. baby.”

They stood like that for a long moment, holding each other close, silently absorbing the strength of what they had, the one thing neither of them would ever let go of, no matter what ghosts came knocking.

Their love was the one thing they knew they could depend on.

Even if the mission ahead would test every part of it.

Chapter Text

The morning after the briefing was quieter in their household. Soft sunlight filtered through the kitchen blinds, cutting slanted lines across the table where Cruz sat motionless. Her elbows were braced against the wood, fingers laced together beneath her chin, staring at the classified dossier open in front of her. Her coffee had long since gone cold, untouched. The steam was gone, like the clarity she usually carried into missions.

She wasn’t reading the file. The words blurred together into a shape she couldn’t hold. Tariq Al-Hamdan’s face stared back at her from the photo paper, buttoned suit, diplomatic grin. And behind him, the unmistakable shadow of a life Cruz had buried deep: Aaliyah.

Josie watched from the hallway, leaning lightly on the frame. She hadn’t meant to be quiet, but she didn’t want to break whatever rhythm Cruz had found, even if that rhythm was just stillness.

She stepped inside only when she saw Cruz’s shoulders rise and fall again, expressing a deep, tired breath.

Josie crossed the room and sat across from her. She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached out and covered Cruz’s hand with her own.

“I didn’t sleep much,” Cruz said, her voice rasped with exhaustion as she looked over at Josie, eyes heavy with fatigue.

Josie nodded gently. “Me neither.”

Cruz exhaled slowly. “The past twenty-four hours, its as if everything has shifted.” She lowered her face into her hands, elbows propped against the table, and stayed there for a long moment. Her fingers gripped her temples like she could press the weight away, like she could push the past back where it belonged. But it didn’t budge. The pressure of the situation, the reappearance of Aaliyah, the weight of what had been left unsaid, the fear of hurting Josie, pressed in on all sides, heavy and relentless. Her chest tightened. For a moment, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Josie paused, watching Cruz's shoulders tremble just slightly under the pressure. Her heart clenched.

“I see you hurting,” Josie said, her voice softer, barely above a whisper. “And it breaks me to see you this way. Because you’ve held onto this for so long. But you don’t have to go through it alone anymore. Not with me here. Not when I know we can handle what you are going through.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around Cruz’s hand. “I know what it feels like to drown quietly. I’ve done it too. Let me be there for you, we are home to each other, Cruz. And I will fight to keep that safe, even from memories you never asked to come back.”

“I don’t want her to come between us,” Cruz murmured, eyes on the tabletop. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Josie leaned in slightly. “You won’t.  We won't.  We’re not fragile, baby. But if you keep this locked inside, if you continue to hold this in, it’ll wear you down. I need you to talk to me, Cruz. I don’t need every detail. But I need you here, with me.”

“I’m trying,” Cruz said, barely above a whisper. “Josie, I never imagined there’d be something I couldn’t tell you. You’re the one person I’ve never held anything back from, but this... I don’t even know where to begin. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, I just don’t know how. I buried it so deep that now, pulling it up feels like tearing open a part of myself I thought was gone. But I swear to you, baby, I’m trying. I really am. Please believe that.”

“I know you are.” Josie watched her closely, a swell of emotion tightening her chest. She wanted to wrap Cruz in something more than words.  Seeing her like this, cracked open and raw, stirred up a fierce protectiveness. But also fear. Fear of the unknown of what this mission might unravel, of the past trying to bleed into their present. And yet, even through that fear, her love held firm, anchored by the woman before her who was trying, always trying, even when it hurt.

They stayed like that for a while, fingers interlaced, foreheads nearly touching over the coffee and classified paper. Then, together, they stood, pulled themselves from the fog.  They walked hand in hand upstairs to their bedroom to change for the day.  Mission prep awaited and for now, they needed to get ready.

Camp Peary had a pulse of its own.  It was steady, clinical, immune to emotion. Joe stood at the head of the secondary operations room, pointer in one hand, the screen behind her dense with intel grids, travel manifests, and encrypted chatter logs. She glanced sideways as Cruz entered, steel in her spine again.

“You holding up?” Joe asked, not turning.

“I will,” Cruz replied evenly, though the tightness in her voice betrayed her. “This is already taking a toll, more than I expected... but I’ll adjust. I always do.”

Joe gave her a sympathetic look, softer than usual. "I know this is complicated for you. But I need to say this, Cruz, despite the personal tie-in, we need you 100 percent focused. No hesitation. We’re counting on you."

Cruz nodded, knowing they were counting on her. As much as she wanted to completely compartmentalize, it was proving difficult. The mission felt personal in ways she hadn't expected, and that personal weight clung to her.  Her thoughts drifted to Josie, the way her eyes searched Cruz’s face that morning, the quiet question in her gaze.

She could already feel a sliver of distance growing between them. Josie felt it too, Cruz was sure of that. And that terrified her more than the mission itself. Vulnerability was never her strong suit, but she knew this couldn't be one of those times she shut down. If she didn't open up, didn’t share what this was doing to her, it would wedge between them. And once that wedge took root, it could grow into something far more dangerous than a failed mission.

Cruz sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t. She would find a way to let Josie in.

One by one, the team entered, taking their spots at the long table. There was a low murmur of shifting gear and clipped boots as the room filled with quiet anticipation. Josie sat between Bobby and Tex, offering a brief nod to Two Cups and Randy as they settled in across from her. Her eyes scanned the room, landing on Cruz in the corner, stone-faced, focused, but carrying something behind her eyes Josie hadn’t seen in a while. The energy felt different today. Heavier. Like they all sensed that whatever came next wouldn’t be like the last few clean missions. And Josie, sitting still but alert, could feel the weight of it beginning to settle on all of them.

Joe didn’t waste time.  She dove right in. “Al-Hamdan’s movements place him in Istanbul for a high-level diplomatic economic forum in a week. He’ll be traveling with a civilian convoy, security detail, and an entourage of international handlers.”

She clicked to the next slide, schematics of the venue.

“We’ll have limited opportunity to observe him in person, but we’ll be conducting ongoing surveillance to monitor all his movements and identify the optimal window to strike. Those windows will be narrow.”

It was now that Cruz finally spoke, inserting her presence as co-leader for the mission. She stepped forward, her voice steady but deliberate, each word chosen with precision. “I’ll be running outside perimeter ops with Joe. QRF will be stationed at entry choke points and fallback zones. Surveillance will remain remote, long lens, unmanned drones, fiber taps inside.”

Tex scratched his jaw. “Same restrictions on non-targets?”

Joe nodded. “Al-Hamdan only.  She and the boy aren't even expected to be in Istanbul but as stated prior, no engagement with Aaliyah or the child unless the mission is compromised. Remember, she’s not part of the op.  This is important.”

Cruz's eyes flicked briefly to Bobby. “We clear on that?”

Bobby met her gaze evenly. “Crystal,” she said.

She held Bobby’s stare for a moment longer than necessary, silently acknowledging the unspoken weight behind the question. Cruz knew they were watching her more closely now. They all felt the tension threading beneath her professionalism. This mission had already carved a space inside her she couldn’t ignore.

But she also knew this was her job. Her team. Her responsibility. So she straightened her shoulders, pulled her composure tighter, and stepped forward more fully into the light of the room. She swept her eyes across the table, meeting each of their gazes one by one.

“I’m here and I'll be ready,” Cruz said firmly, her voice resonant with clarity. “I’ve got it.”

The words weren’t just a signal that she was ready, but a quiet vow to the people who trusted her to lead. She saw the slight shift in their postures, Tex nodding almost imperceptibly, Two Cups letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and Randy giving a slight grin. Bobby met her eyes and gave her the smallest, knowing nod, subtle, but sure.

It was a steady, quiet confirmation: we’re with you.

The message landed where it needed to. For the team. For herself. And for Josie, who, across the table, gave her the faintest smile of pride and understanding. A thread of warmth pierced the heaviness in Cruz’s chest. This was hers to lead. And she would.

Later that afternoon, Josie sat on the tailgate of a Humvee inside the hangar, doing a gear check. Bobby walked over, peeling open a protein bar with one hand.

Bobby sat next to Josie on the tailgate, the sound of her boots scuffing softly against the concrete floor of the hangar. She glanced sideways at her, taking in the way Josie’s brows were drawn in just slightly, her focus somewhere distant.

“How you holding up?  I know this can't be easy.....you good?” she asked casually, though her tone betrayed the simplicity of the words.

Josie didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” Bobby pressed.

Josie finally met her eyes and sighed deeply. “I need to ask you.  Tell me to shut up if you need to," Josie sighed again. "Did you know about what happened with Cruz?”

Bobby shook her head. “I knew something went deep.  I had an idea of what may have happened between the two of them emotionally. I can't go into full details of the extraction but she was different after Mallorca. Cold, withdrawn. She said she did what she had to do. That’s all we ever got.” Bobby looked away. "You know she left after that.  Went to another unit and didn't want to stay.  It was too hard for her."

Josie took a slow breath. “She told me when we met that she’d once fallen in love with someone during her mission as a Lioness. I never asked her for more information......I never felt I needed more.” Her voice wavered slightly, the admission heavier now that the pieces had started to fall into place.

She looked down at her hands, then back at Bobby. “I haven’t really let myself feel it, not fully. But now that I know who it was... and what Cruz went through... I can see now why she was holding it all in.”

She paused, emotion creeping into her throat. “She loves me. I know that in my heart. But that doesn’t mean this doesn’t fucking hurt to watch. I see it all over her face, Bobby. And I don’t want to become someone she feels she has to protect from the truth.”

“Then don't let her,” Bobby said gently. “Keep at it, showing her, she doesn't need to do that.”

“I trying.  I'm trying not to push but also pressing her to talk to me." Josie’s voice cracked slightly as she said it, and she looked away for a second, overwhelmed by the swirl of emotions inside her. This mission had unearthed something raw and fragile between them, something that hadn’t been tested in this way before. She had always been Cruz’s rock, just as Cruz was hers, but this... this carried sharp edges. Edges that could cut if they weren’t careful. She wasn’t afraid of the past, they all had one, but she needed to know they would walk through this minefield together.

“You’re the only one she’d let try to get inside.” Bobby placed her hand on her shoulders. "Don't give up Josie.  She'll open up."

Josie gave a tight nod. “I know.  I'll be ready when we get to that point.”

They were back at home that evening. They moved around the bedroom in near silence, packing for their flight to Turkey the next morning. Each moved with practiced ease, duffels open, clothes folded, but neither spoke much. The air between them was thick with tension and anticipation. The quiet that fills the space before something shifts.

Cruz zipped her bag halfway, then paused, her hands resting on the edge of the duffel as she watched Josie quietly fold one of her t-shirts and place it neatly in her pack. The late afternoon light filtered through the bedroom curtains, catching the curve of Josie’s shoulder, the gentle focus in her brow. Something about the stillness, the routine of it all, the way Josie moved with unspoken calm, stirred something in Cruz.

She realized, in that fragile silence, that now was the moment. The hesitation that had clung to her loosened its grip. She was ready. She crossed the room slowly, her steps deliberate, and gently reached for Josie’s hands, letting their fingers lace together.

Josie looked up, her expression soft, searching Cruz’s face. And without a word, she knew.

Josie turned toward her, offering a soft, knowing smile.

Cruz motioned gently toward the bed, and Josie moved without hesitation, sitting at the edge. Cruz followed but didn’t sit beside her, she lowered herself to her knees in front of her instead, needing to feel grounded, needing the physical contact to hold her steady. Her hands settled on Josie’s hips, thumbs brushing against the soft fabric of her pants, as if anchoring herself to the only safe thing she knew.

Josie’s breath caught slightly at the gesture, her fingers instinctively reaching to thread through Cruz’s hair, offering her own kind of anchor. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither spoke. Then Cruz finally began.

"It didn’t happen all at once," Her voice low and deliberate. "There was a connection from the start. She was warm, sweet, charismatic.....everything I wasn’t. She drew me in without even trying."

Josie said nothing, just kept soothing Cruz by gently running her fingers back and forth in her hair.

Cruz exhaled. "You know about Edgar. About all the things that happened to me when I was young. The loneliness I felt from all that I went through. I saw that in her too. She was trapped, Josie. Her life wasn’t her own. Her father arranged her marriage, dictated her future. She told me if she disobeyed, she’d be imprisoned or worse."

She paused, swallowing a lump in her throat. "And I realized... we weren’t so different. We grew up worlds apart, she had wealth, me....I had nothing. But we were both lonely. And I started to feel more than I should have."

Cruz’s voice trembled. "We spent more time together. The lines began to blur. I knew what I was sent there to do. I tried to stay focused. But it didn’t matter. It all escalated.....and eventually....we slept together."

She braced, unsure how Josie would react. But Josie didn’t flinch. She just listened.

“I almost walked out on the mission,” Cruz continued, barely above a whisper. “I told Joe I was falling in love with her. That I couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t lie to her, use her. But Joe convinced me to stay. Somehow got me to believe the greater good mattered more.”

She shook her head, her eyes drifting to the floor as if watching the past play out beneath her feet. "You know the rest. I did the job and I took out the target."

Her voice faltered, as her mind replayed those final moments. "That last night we were together, she was terrified, Josie. She wasn’t just a mark anymore, she was real to me. And when it all came down, she looked at me like I was her only escape. Like I was the one person she could trust."

Cruz blinked hard, her breath catching in her throat. "And I left her. I disappeared. No warning. I destroyed her world. And I hated myself for it. The guilt I felt. Because no matter how much I tried to justify it with duty or orders, I remember the way she looked at me the last time I saw her. I remember what I took from her."

She swallowed hard and looked back at Josie, eyes brimming but steady. "And now... knowing she has a child, knowing we’re about to break her world all over again, it’s like that moment never really ended. It’s just been waiting to finish what I started and its killing me."

She fell silent. Her hands trembled. Josie leaned in, cupped her face.

"Hey," she said softly. “I know this won’t be easy. God, it’s going to hurt. But you’ve always told me, we focus on the mission. We move forward. We do the job. And we do it together. I’m with you, every step of the way. No matter what.”

She let her forehead rest lightly against Cruz’s, grounding them in the quiet.

“I can see this is tearing you apart in ways you weren’t ready for,” she continued gently. “You thought you had put it behind you, buried it deep enough to forget. But now it’s back, and it’s hurting you. I feel it, even when you try to hide it.”

Josie exhaled, her voice low but unwavering. “But you’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to face this with the same silence you carried back then. We’re in this together. And we will come out the other side, together. You can't bury this anymore baby. Your carrying too much pain inside you. You have to finally come to terms and release it.”

She kissed Cruz on the cheek, lingering in the warmth of her skin. “Thank you for telling me.”

Cruz leaned in, her eyes misty as she kissed her slowly. “I love you so much. Please, never forget that.”

“I know,” Josie whispered. “I know you love me.  That's what will get us through all of this.  Ok?”

Cruz nodded her head.  They leaned back into bed, the quiet enveloping them. Cruz stared at the ceiling, eyes open but unfocused, the weight of the past still heavy in her chest. Josie turned slightly toward her, their shoulders just barely touching.

After a long moment, Cruz turned her head, her eyes locking with Josie’s. What she saw there wasn’t pity or uncertainty, it was love. The same steady, fierce, unwavering love.

Cruz leaned into her, drawing close as they wrapped their arms around each other. Their foreheads touched again, then their noses, until their lips brushed with aching tenderness. And then they held each other tight, their eyes open, gazes locked, no words, just a silent vow passed between them.

Then Cruz reached out and threaded their fingers together. Josie didn’t hesitate. She squeezed gently, settling them both.

It wasn’t a promise or a solution. It was presence. It was always love. 

The mission was beginning. And they knew everything was about to change.

Chapter Text

Inside the plane, the QRF team was mid flight and settled into their routines. Tex was half-asleep, arms folded over his chest; Randy and Two Cups argued over protein bar flavors like nothing was different. But Josie watched them closely. She saw the flickers of restraint in Bobby’s face, the way Tucker was glancing toward Cruz more often than usual. They all felt it. The shift. The gravity of this mission.

Cruz sat near the front, staring out the small window as the aircraft rumbled down the runway. Josie buckled in beside her, brushing her fingers briefly against hers. Cruz didn’t look away from the window, but she turned her hand palm-up to meet Josie’s, the connection a quiet link between them.

Istanbul was humid when they arrived, a mild winter haze clinging to the city skyline. The descent into Atatürk Airport had been quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Cruz hadn’t said much during the flight after the initial briefing, but her eyes never left the mission folder in her lap. Josie had watched her sitting next to her, knowing that beneath that practiced calm, a war was raging.

Their cover identities were in place, diplomatic security consultants embedded with a multinational logistics firm. It was clean and believable. An assignment they could slide into without raising suspicion. But Josie could already feel the tension in her chest growing. This was personal for Cruz. Which meant it was personal for her too.

They all left the airport in their convoy, the sound of the engines steady as they slipped into the city's atmosphere. Cruz sat quietly in the lead SUV, eyes fixed ahead, her jaw set tight. Josie sat beside her, hand resting between them but not yet reaching. The others followed in the vehicles behind, Tucker humming faintly to whatever was playing through his earpiece, Bobby checking her watch more than necessary, Two Cups already cracking a joke that no one really heard. They wound their way through the humid Istanbul streets, the city both foreign and familiar to those who had been here before, until finally, they arrived at the safehouse.

Their safehouse was a large penthouse apartment on the eastern side of the city, elevated above the bustle yet not beyond reach. The moment they stepped through the door, the QRF team moved with instinct.  Bobby and Tucker fanned out to check the perimeter, Randy and Tex swept the back rooms, and Two Cups was already muttering about the coffee setup as he checked the kitchen for hidden entries. It was routine, drilled into them, but Josie caught the stiffness in their movements, the quiet glances exchanged. Cruz didn’t say a word, but Josie watched as her partner’s eyes moved with purpose, scanning corners, testing silence. There was an unspoken edge beneath her calm exterior. And as Josie stepped further inside, her gut told her the next few days would challenge them in ways no mission ever had.

Once the sweep was completed, the team moved quickly, gear was unpacked and set up, surveillance routes reviewed, wireless channels confirmed. The routine steadied them. Their muscle memory was in motion.

Later that afternoon, the mission prep was already underway. They pored over maps, schedules, and facial recognition grids, and drone footage from Riyadh. Cruz led the tactical breakdown, arms crossed, gaze also never leaving the profile of Tariq Al-Hamdan. The man who had stepped into Asmar Amrohi’s world with chilling ease.

Josie remained focused, but she could feel the threads pulling strongly inside Cruz. Aaliyah had surfaced already, seen through drone footage captured earlier that week in Riyadh that they were reviewing. The aerial clip was brief, showing her walking confidently through the family compound, her son’s hand in hers, as they were ushered into a waiting car.

When the image had appeared on the monitor during prep, the room had gone silent. Bobby had muttered under her breath, "Well, shit. She looks like a queen."

Cruz had gone still, just for a second. Josie caught it, the quiet hitch in her breath, the barely perceptible twinge in her brow, the way her fingers flexed subtly at her side. Josie didn’t comment, but the look lodged itself deep in her memory, even as she kept her eyes on the screen. The past was no longer buried, it was walking, breathing, and living in their world now.

In the evening, Josie stood on the apartment balcony, the Bosphorus glowing in the distance. She tried to focus on the rhythmic lapping of water below, the distant sound of the city winding down, but her thoughts were tangled.

Josie didn’t feel threatened by Aaliyah Amrohi. But she did feel her presence pressing against Cruz’s shoulders, and that meant it pressed against her heart, too. She wasn’t angry. Just... bracing. Because what they were stepping into wasn’t just another mission. It was a reckoning.

Cruz joined her quietly, two mugs of tea in hand. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the lights shimmer on the water, the silence between them pulsing between them.

Cruz stood silently for a while, her eyes tracing the horizon before she finally spoke, her voice low and slightly unsteady. “Seeing her today was strange,” she admitted, the words catching in her throat. Her mind reeled back to the footage from Riyadh, the brief flicker of Aaliyah in motion. It hadn’t been dramatic or staged, but it hit her in a way she hadn't expected.

Josie, still and calm beside her, waited for her to continue.

“It shook something loose in me,” Cruz added, glancing briefly at Josie before looking back toward the city lights. 

Josie didn’t react. She waited.

“She looks different. Still her... but older. There’s something in her eyes now. Like she’s always waiting for something to go wrong.”

As Cruz said the words, a part of her recoiled at how easily her feelings surfaced. Seeing Aaliyah again, with the same soulful eyes but now dulled by years and maybe sorrow, stirred something in her.  Not longing, not regret exactly, but a sharp pang of something unfinished.

"It hurts to see her look like that." Cruz said feeling guilt.

Josie placed her tea down and reached for Cruz’s hand. “Then let it hurt. Keep talking to me about it.” She swallowed hard, her thumb brushing lightly across Cruz’s knuckles. “Keep telling me how you feel."

She took a breath, steadying herself. “We need to keep our lines of communication open. Because I’m not just here to support you, I’m in this with you. All of it.”

Cruz sighed. “I know baby, and I will. I make that promise.”

But even as she said it, the feeling in her chest didn’t immediately ease. Cruz knew how to make promises, to others, to herself, but keeping them when ghosts of her past clawed their way back into the present felt like walking a tightrope. Part of her wanted to bury it all again, to armor up and get through the mission on grit alone. But the other part, the part that had fought so hard to learn how to really love Josie, knew better.

She looked at Josie and reminded herself that this, this connection, was worth more than all the missions and memories she’d ever survived. She would continue to talk. She would let Josie in. Because if she didn’t, she’d lose the only thing in her life that ever truly made her feel whole and happy.

As the maps and drone footage were reviewed in detail, Joe stepped into the secondary command room of the safehouse, where Cruz stood in front of a digital map, arms folded. The rest of the team was grabbing a quick meal or checking gear. Joe approached quietly, not wanting to break Cruz’s rhythm.

"How’s it looking?" she asked softly, eyeing the maps.

Cruz didn’t answer immediately. She finally nodded toward a quadrant on the screen. “Tactically solid. Surveillance routes are covered and entry points have been verified. We’ve got eyes in all the right places.”

Joe stepped closer. “And you?” she asked gently.  She looked directly at Cruz. “You holding it together?”

Cruz nodded, her voice firm. "I am. I won’t let my personal feelings interfere. I have a commitment, to this team and to myself, to see this mission through. That hasn’t changed. And it won’t."

Joe gave a slow, approving nod. "Good. That’s what I need to hear." Her voice softened just slightly. "But remember, lean on the people around you. Don’t deal with it all by yourself. I know Josie will be there for you. Hell, I will too. I’m not the bitch you’ve always pegged me as." Joe smirks at her, smile tugging at her lips

Cruz let out a quiet breath, the smallest smile pulling at her lips. "You’re not? Damn. And here I thought ‘Hard Bitch’ was your middle name."

Joe chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "Very good, Manuelos. Looks like you finally developed a sense of humor."

The exchange, light as it was, cut through the tension lingering in the room. And Joe knew that, Cruz needed that. A reminder that not everything had to weigh so heavily all the time.

Later in the evening, long after the team had gone quiet, Cruz sat at the small kitchen table of the safehouse. She stared at the still photo of Al-Hamdan captured from earlier footage.  He was laughing, arm loosely around Aaliyah’s waist as she held their son. The image wasn’t posed, just a moment in motion.

Josie entered the kitchen silently. She held two glasses of water, setting one beside Cruz without a word. She studied Cruz’s profile, the hard jaw, the tension in her shoulders. The exhaustion behind her eyes.

She sat down at the table and sighed.  She knew Cruz wouldn't be surprised by the question but despite Josie's undoubted assurances of Cruz's love for her, she'd had this question looming inside her the moment she found out who Aaliyah Amrohi was and she could no longer hold onto it inside.  She was going to ask.  She sighed as she looked at her glass of water.  "I have to ask you this."  She took a breath.  Knowing the answer but still feeling nerves course through her.

“Do you still have feelings her?” Josie asked quietly, her voice barely more than a breath. The question tumbled out before she could stop it, vulnerable and raw.

Cruz looked up, startled. Then her eyes softened.  She wanted to make sure she came across exactly how she felt.  It was important Josie understood.  She leaned in, closer to Josie. “I think there will always be a part of me that does. But now it's more of a feeling of wanting to ensure she's ok.  I'll always care about her. I can't lie to you about that.” She paused, struggling for words. “She was the first person I felt really saw me.   She opened the door for me to realize I could potentially give more and receive more. But everything I had with her was built on a lie. It was never solid, not like this. Not like it is with you.”

Josie looked at her, as her knee brushed Cruz's underneath the table. “I believe you. I’m not jealous, Cruz.  Of course, you'll always have a part of you that's with her.  She was your first love.  I understand that. I just don’t want it to haunt you while I’m right here with you.”

“I know,” Cruz whispered. “It’s just... seeing her with her son. With a life. It made it all real in a way it hadn’t been before.”

Josie touched her hand, firm and sure. “You’re not the same woman who left her behind.  And now you get to choose what to do with the woman you’ve become.”

Cruz leaned even closer and placed her forehead against Josie’s shoulder. “You make me feel like I'm worth it.”

Josie’s fingers moved through her hair, slow and steady as she closed her eyes, feeling Cruz's touch course through her. “You’ve always been worth it.  You just needed someone to remind you.” She kissed her head softly, needing to feel Cruz's warmth as Josie worked through her own inner struggles.

Cruz pulled back gently to look Josie in her eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry I’m an emotional mess right now,” Cruz said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Trying to deal with Aaliyah involved in the op and the mission demands, I know I’m putting you through a lot. But please know, without you, I don’t think I could make it through this. Yes, she was someone I loved, but you… you’re my wife. You’re my entire life. And there will never be another place I want to be other than with you. I love you.”

She exhaled shakily, the vulnerability raw in her eyes. “Bear with me. I feel like I shouldn’t ask that of you, but I am. Because I can’t live my life without you.”

Josie didn’t hesitate. She leaned in and cupped Cruz’s cheek, her thumb stroking gently beneath her eye. “You’ll never have to doubt that,” she said softly but firmly. “I’m here. Always. Whatever we face, whatever pain we face, we will face it together.” She paused to take in the vulnerable sight of her wife who was desperately reaching out to her. "I love you too."

They held each other tight, foreheads pressed together. In this life, they had each other. And no matter how many times they needed to say it, or show it, or prove it, they would. Their love was built to withstand anything.

Josie had gone to bed and Cruz had lingered longer as she still couldn't sleep.  It was close to dawn and she was in the dim privacy of an unused guest bedroom she’d claimed for a few hours of quiet, Cruz lay back and closed her eyes, and memory struck......Mallorca and the private villa.

She remembered that last night, the blur of blood and silence. Asmar. Ehsan. The kitchen floor. Aaliyah screaming as Cruz disappeared into the night.

Cruz opened her eyes and felt the past pressing hard against her ribs.  She reflected back to what Josie had just told her hours ago in the kitchen. She wasn’t the same woman anymore. She had built a life with Josie with was honest, scarred, and beautiful.

A knock sounded on the doorframe. Joe stood there, tablet in hand.

“Al-Hamdan’s plane touched down,” she said. “He’s staying at the waterfront compound near the forum venue.” Joe then hesitated.

Cruz nodded, clearing her throat. “Ok what else?”  Cruz sensed Joe's hesitation and knew she wanted to say more.

“He’s brought them. Aaliyah and their son.” Joe looked slightly concerned.

Cruz’s stomach clenched.

Joe studied her for a long second. “We’re watching. There will be no engagement unless ordered.”

Cruz managed a quiet, “I know.”

Joe turned to leave but paused in the doorway. "Just remember, stay focused."

Cruz gave a faint nod. But she couldn’t say anything else.

Once the door closed, Cruz sat up slowly and turned toward the window. The lights of Istanbul blinked in the distance, vibrant and alive. And in that moment, everything felt fragile. The past. The mission. Herself.

She pressed her palms together, trying to ground herself, and thoughts of Josie, her steady eyes, her unwavering love. Her person.

This time, she wouldn’t run from the wreckage. She would walk through it. Not alone. Not anymore. With Josie beside her, she would face it all.

Chapter Text

The Istanbul safehouse buzzed with subdued tension. The morning after Cruz’s sleepless night, the team had shifted into full operational mode. Joe had called for a formal surveillance setup briefing, continuing to co-lead the operation due to the emotional stakes. Everyone showed up early, sensing the stress of the morning.

Joe and Cruz opened the meeting with a crucial update.  Aaliyah and her young son had indeed accompanied Al-Hamdan to Istanbul. Drone surveillance had confirmed her presence alongside Al-Hamdan as their private plane arrived at the airport.  Joe issued a firm but measured reminder: while Aaliyah was near the target, she was to be avoided at all costs. Cruz and Josie exchanged a fleeting glance, the unspoken understanding between them. As Joe emphasized, emotions could not compromise execution, no matter how personal the layers became.

By late afternoon, Randy and Tex had returned from a perimeter recon, shrugging off their jackets as they stepped into the main room where a series of laptops and maps covered the central table. Two Cups was already tapping at the keyboard, pulling up satellite overlays and surveillance feeds. Bobby stood by the whiteboard, jotting down new timestamps from local assets. Meanwhile, Tucker was perched near the far window, scanning the street below through a pair of binoculars, his finger hovering near the comms button on his vest. "All quiet for now," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he continued to survey the block. 

Josie moved between them all, checking power sources, recalibrating frequency splitters, staying busy, but her eyes flicked to the door every few seconds. She felt the uneasiness in her chest. Cruz's internal tension remained, even if no one else could see it.

When Cruz finally walked in, she moved with ease and poise like nothing was bothering her. Composed, authoritative, but Josie could see every fracture behind her stillness. The way her shoulders didn’t quite drop. The way her fingers curled just slightly.

"Alright," Cruz said, stepping forward. "We’ve got a pattern emerging. Al-Hamdan’s using a false schedule. The early morning convoy was a decoy, he never entered the hotel. Instead, he slipped into a side apartment in the Beyoğlu district."

"Do you think he feels something is up?" Two Cups muttered. "Guy's not just smart, he seems fucking paranoid."

"That paranoia makes him predictable," Joe replied. "Which is how we got this."

She clicked the projector remote and pulled up drone footage. Aaliyah and her son appeared again, this time outside a small, upscale café near Taksim Square, taken just a couple hours prior. The footage was clearer than the one they had first seen upon arrival at the airport. She held her son's hand tightly, her expression calm but alert.

It was another glimpse, another piece of a life Cruz once knew only in shadows. And even though she'd already seen Aaliyah on drone footage in the earlier briefings, something about this sighting, her movements, the way she looked at her son, dug in deeper.

Mother and son were alone.

The room went still.

No one spoke for a long moment. Cruz stood there, arms crossed, a statue of muscle and willpower. But Josie saw the shift. The way her body betrayed her with the smallest inhale, how her throat moved when she swallowed something sharp and hard and unspoken.

Joe continued, her voice carefully measured. "They were only there for twenty minutes. The driver stayed parked across the street. Al-Hamdan never appeared. This is will likely be a routine outing for her and the child. So this may be a location we need to observe moving forward as it could provide us a window of opportunity in which Al-Hamdan may accompany them at times."

Randy let out a breath. "She's in the blast zone, we should be concerned about that."

Joe nodded. "Yes and we are taking it seriously. Which means we operate cleaner than ever. I don’t need to remind any of you what this op means. But I’ll say this, emotion does not cloud execution."

Her eyes found Cruz’s. A silent reminder. Not harsh. Just reminding her of the reality of the moment.

"Any movement on his crypto accounts?" Bobby asked, clearing her throat and breaking the tension.

"Yes. He moved over 300,000 in BTC through a dead arts foundation last night," Joe said. "Same pattern as last month in Qatar. He’s definitely ramping up."

The team moved into tactical breakdown. Joe began assigning roles with sharp precision, drawing from the updated intel they had just reviewed. Josie and Bobby were tasked with managing comms and thermal mapping, an intricate coordination of static relay points, drone routing, and encrypted frequency controls. As Bobby unrolled new satellite blueprints, she quipped dryly, "Guess we’re back to babysitting the sky," earning a crooked smile from Josie who replied, "Better than babysitting Cups in the field."

Two Cups, ever the wiseass, leaned over Tex’s shoulder as they examined urban infil points. "You know, if I get shot again, I'm blaming you," he muttered, elbowing Tex lightly. Tex grunted in reply, never looking up. "Try not to run into bullets this time, genius."

Tex and Two Cups were officially designated for backup response, on standby for live extraction or close-quarter breach if the situation turned hot. They both nodded in unison as the floor plan of the Beyoğlu district apartment complex was projected onto the screen. Tucker, still near the window, tossed in a casual, "Let’s just hope they serve tea when we show up unannounced."

Once the meeting wrapped, the team filtered out with a mix of quiet nods and clipped footsteps. Bobby clapped Two Cups on the back and muttered something dry that earned a small laugh. Tucker tossed a final glance over his shoulder, reading the room, then nudged Tex to follow him out. Josie lingered behind, her arms folded loosely, leaning against the corner wall.

Cruz didn’t move. She stood rooted at the table’s edge, her eyes fixed on the paused still-frame of Aaliyah and her son. Josie could practically feel the heat coming off her, tight and coiled. A wound long sealed but never healed, now throbbing just beneath the surface.

The sound of the safehouse seemed distant. The image of Aaliyah, frozen mid-step with her son’s hand clutched in hers, glowed on the screen. Cruz’s profile was rigid, her jaw flexing as her mind replayed old memories against the stark contrast of reality.

Josie inhaled softly and pushed off the wall, making her way over. She could feel the moment trembling between them.

Cruz remained at the edge of the table, staring down at a still image of Aaliyah holding her son. Her jaw flexed once, then again.

Josie approached quietly, her voice gentle. “What are you thinking, babe?”

Cruz didn’t look at Josie right away, her eyes locked on the photo in front of her. She exhaled slowly, her voice low. “I was just thinking about the day before her wedding in Mallorca… we walked the grounds of the property. It was quiet but tense. We hadn’t seen each other since New York, after everything happened between us. We barely spoke at first, just wandered past the guests and staff until we ended up at this ledge overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.”

She glanced at Josie, who was watching her with that steady, unwavering gaze. The kind that made Cruz feel safe enough to keep going.

“She told me what she hoped her life would look like… having children, raising them. But she questioned if she could ever love them. If she’d even be capable of being a good mother.” Cruz’s voice caught slightly. “I think she feared that because the marriage wasn’t her choice, those children would be a reminder of that. A reminder of the life she was being forced into.”

Cruz shifted, jaw tight. “But now… seeing her with her son, it’s clear how much she loves him. It’s in every gesture, every look. She was always capable of love, Josie. She just didn’t have the freedom to show it before. Seeing her like this, it confirms what I already knew. She’s a good person who was trapped in a life she didn’t choose.”

She blinked, staring back at the image. “She looks happy. But she also looks… guarded. Like she’s constantly watching the edges of the room. And the worst part? She has no idea what’s coming. No idea that I’m involved again. That I’m part of something that might destroy her world all over again.”

Cruz’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I hate that. Because I’m the one doing it.”

She paused, and her voice softened into something far more fragile. “It makes me feel like I broke something in her that can’t be fixed. Like no matter how much good I try to do now, there’s this part of her that I hurt so deeply, it’s just... sealed over. I hate knowing that I could ever be the source of someone else's fear. That feeling, it’s like a scar on my conscience I can’t get rid of.” Her jaw tensed again, the weight of shame crawling across her expression.

Josie’s heart clenched. She stepped in closer, lifting both hands to gently cup Cruz’s cheeks. Her thumbs brushed along Cruz’s temples, grounding her with warmth and steadiness. “Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with Cruz’s. “I’m going to keep repeating this to you until it finally reaches you. It only makes you human to feel this way. You cared about her, and the way you're feeling is normal. You loved her once, and now you’re facing the consequences of that truth colliding with what you had to do. But Cruz, you can’t take all the blame.”

Her voice trembled with conviction. “Her father. The man she was supposed to marry. The one she’s with now. They’ve all shaped that fear too. They’ve hurt her in ways you never did. It’s not all you, baby. You have to remind yourself of that.”

Cruz leaned into Josie’s hands, letting the warmth of her touch steady her. Her eyes closed for a moment, drawing strength from the woman in front of her.

“Every time I think I’ve got a handle on it, something like this just... takes me a step back. I keep feeling like I’m losing myself,” she admitted, her voice raw and cracking around the edges. Her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, glistened with the weight she rarely let show. Cruz leaned closer, her forehead brushing against Josie's, trying to stay afloat. "But hearing you say that, it’s like being pulled back to the surface. It helps more than you'll ever know."

She opened her eyes, meeting Josie’s steady gaze. “You see me, the real me, even when I struggle to see it. And that’s what keeps me coming back from this edge. Thank you, baby.”

Cruz breathed in the scent of Josie’s skin, jasmine and sweat and safety, and rested her forehead against hers. “You’re the only thing keeping me from drowning in this.”

Josie leaned in. “Then hold on to me. We're doing this together.”

They stood there until the silence softened. Josie kept her forehead against Cruz’s, her hands still holding her face like a promise she wasn’t going to break. Cruz’s breath slowed in her chest, her body finally beginning to let go of some of the tension that had coiled so tightly within her. The world outside their embrace was still heavy, still complicated, but in this sliver of quiet, Cruz allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that she could carry all of it, as long as Josie stayed right here with her.

Cruz whispered, “I love you.”

Josie shook her head slowly, her voice fierce and low. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that, holding each other, while the storm of the past churned just beyond the edges of the safehouse walls.

That evening, Joe sat in front of the surveillance monitor, brows furrowed as she watched the latest drone footage. Al-Hamdan's driver had deviated from the usual route once again, this time exiting through a narrow alley behind the compound, crossing a rooftop via a connecting balcony, and reemerging on a parallel street. It was a bold maneuver, one that raised more questions than answers. His movements had grown increasingly erratic, yet calculated, no longer just cautious, but reactive. Joe leaned back in her chair, the weight of it sinking in. She knew something. She felt it. As though the noose was tightening, and Al-Hamdan could sense the walls pressing closer with each passing day.

Joe called the team back to the table, this time with Cruz standing just to her right. They had coordinated the shift into the next phase.  It was time to take the next steps in the operation.

"He’s adjusting his movements. It appears he is anticipating with extreme caution," Joe said, pointing to a grainy aerial capture of the black SUV bypassing the secure checkpoint. "He knows he’s being watched. He’s making counter-moves, and he’s doing it fast."

Randy exhaled through his nose. "This guy doesn’t hesitate."

Joe nodded. "Which is why we can’t either."

She looked at the team, each face sharpened by the low light and pressure. "We’re entering shadow phase. No margin for hesitation now. That means tighter surveillance and no loose ends."

The atmosphere thickened with readiness. Everyone straightened.

Cruz stepped forward, her fingers landing squarely on the map, outlining Al-Hamdan’s likely next move.

Her voice was clear. Strong and unyielding. "It's time to smoke him out. Seal up his routes where we can so he has less area to hide."

The team nodded in sync. And the hunt moved forward, with all of them knowing the emotional cost was only beginning to rise.

Chapter Text

The tightening net around Al-Hamdan had the team stretched thinner than ever. Surveillance had escalated. Every hour brought new feeds, new heat signatures, new possible egress points. The compound was surrounded on all sides now, each movement logged, tracked, and mapped. Tension buzzed through the safehouse with every pulsing moment.

Josie and Bobby worked long rotating shifts in the comms room, pouring over thermal data and facial recognition overlays. The walls were lined with monitors, sticky notes, and printed maps marked in red. They kept their eyes glued to overlapping grids, watching for anomalies in patterns: body doubles, late-night departures, unmarked convoys. Josie’s eyes stung from lack of sleep, her fingers cramped from holding a stylus too tightly. At one point, Al-Hamdan was spotted slipping out through a delivery entrance under heavy cover, an exit not previously scouted.

Two Cups and Tex shadowed the exterior perimeter, alternating positions with local assets. They moved discreetly through the alleys of Istanbul, blending into the mix. After many nights, they clocked Al-Hamdan departing in an unregistered town car around 1:00 a.m. The route didn’t match any of the known residences. A new location was suspected, probably a fallback location or secret meeting point for him.

Cruz and Joe convened in the ops room. The tension between them was silent but thick, made heavier by the personal stakes. They sat across from each other, a large digital display sounding beside them with current GPS traces.

"He's adapting fast," Cruz said, eyes on the looping surveillance clips. Her fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the desk, betraying her otherwise composed exterior. "He’s not running, but he’s re-fortifying his movements. I think he senses the oversight on him."

Joe leaned back in her chair, arms folded. Her tone was calm, but her eyes were razor sharp. "And now that Aaliyah and her son are physically within proximity, you need to start sealing those internal compartments, Cruz. We can’t afford emotion at the trigger."

Cruz gave a small, dry laugh and a bitter smile. "Always so fucking subtle, Joe."

"You know I’m right. I wouldn’t say it often otherwise," Joe replied evenly, her voice steady but not without empathy. "You’re one of the best we’ve got, Cruz. But even the best have limits."

Cruz sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her posture slumping for the first time all day. "She’s not a threat. But she’s in the blast radius. And that kid... He didn’t choose any of this. He didn’t ask to be born into a world shaped by monsters and fucking secrets. He’s just a kid. And every part of me wants to keep him safe, even if I know that’s not my job. Even if I know that’s not the fucking mission." Cruz showed uncharacteristic frustration.

Joe’s voice softened. "No, he didn’t. But if you’re not careful, your guilt over her will cloud your judgment over him. We can’t let that happen."

Cruz’s mouth tightened, but she nodded. "You won’t have fully to take over. I’ve got this."

Joe studied her for a moment, then simply said, "I hope so."

Meanwhile, Josie sat alone in the darkened monitoring room. The glow of the monitors painted her face in cold blue light. Her eyes were bloodshot, her jaw clenched as she scrolled through hours of surveillance footage. She paused, not on a tactical frame, but on one where Cruz appeared unaware of the camera in the room, a moment where she pushed a strand of hair back, a trace of weariness in her eyes. It struck Josie not just as surveillance, but as a quiet portrait of the woman she loved, a glimpse of the burden Cruz was managing alone. And in that stillness, Josie felt the wedge between them growing, quiet and slow, like a tide rising an inch at a time.

She exhaled shakily. Cruz wasn’t shutting her out completely, Josie knew that. Cruz had been sharing her feelings and thoughts throughout the mission so far. But Josie could still feel the shift. It was happening slowly, quietly, like dust settling over something once vibrant. The deeper the mission dragged them in, the more Cruz drifted and went into herself.  Josie had tried to keep things open between them, speaking honestly throughout the operation, sharing her own stress, her hopes, even her fears. But still, she felt Cruz pulling inward. Josie saw it in the little things: how Cruz’s smile only clung for a moment, how her hand grazed Josie’s only in passing, how her replies arrived with shorter, clipped tones. In the time they had been together, Josie had never felt a moment that they didn't share with each other.  She always knew they were open and honest, no matter the circumstance.  Now, the distance was subtle but present and it was a concern Josie couldn’t shake. 

Is she slipping back into a cover? The thought came uninvited, heavy and cold. Josie hated it, not because she feared for their relationship, but because she feared what Cruz might be surrendering within herself. The warmth, the soul, the empathy Cruz fought so hard to regain and protect, they were all things a cover alias couldn’t afford to hold onto. Josie had seen it in Cruz’s eyes lately: the distant stare, the clipped responses, the mechanical focus. It was like watching the woman she loved slowly armor herself in a past that had broken her. Josie didn’t fear losing Cruz's love, she feared losing Cruz to herself.

That evening brought a new complication.

Two Cups intercepted chatter suggesting Al-Hamdan’s courier had been abducted, by an unknown party.

“We have a problem,” he said, dropping into the ops room with a sharp breath. “Intercepted comms just lit up. The courier’s gone. He was snatched off the street near Galata Tower. Not by us. Not anyone local either.”

Bobby stood from her position at the console. “You think it’s another player?”

“Yeah.....could be,” Two Cups replied. “Probably another terrorist financier. Maybe someone else who doesn’t want Al-Hamdan making moves on their turf.”

"This fucking complicates everything," Bobby muttered, pacing. "He’s going to start making wild moves."

"Or he already has," Cruz said, appearing at the door. Her tone was short, but her eyes held a sharp edge.

She stepped inside, reviewing the intel in silence before typing a short message to Joe on a secured tablet: Possible external observer. Leak or competitor. We need to watch Aaliyah closely.

That night, long after the others had turned in, Cruz stepped onto the safehouse balcony. The air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds below. Josie was already there, leaning against the rail, arms crossed.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Cruz asked, her voice soft but already knowing the answer. She stepped out slowly, her eyes adjusting to the low light, shoulders heavy with the day’s activity.

Josie shook her head without looking at her. "I have too much noise in my head." Her voice was quiet, but there was a raw edge to it, like the silence between them had been pressing down on her all day. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dark horizon, not because she didn’t want to see Cruz, but because she was afraid of what Cruz might see in her. Fear, worry, doubt, all tangled into a storm she hadn’t yet found the words to share. The weight of the mission, the shadows of the past, and the woman she loved standing right beside her but feeling miles away.

Cruz joined her at the rail. They stood side by side in silence, the way only lovers who know each other’s pain can share.

She glanced over at Josie, her expression tight with unease. “I feel like I’m starting to protect myself the way I did when I was Zara, by shutting everything out, by becoming all mission, no heart. It’s not about her. It’s about what being her did to me. I became someone who could walk through fire without blinking.”

Cruz let out a shaky breath. “I can feel it creeping back in. That part of me that turns off emotion and just moves through orders. It’s muscle memory.  It’s like flipping a switch, and I hate how natural it's starting to feel.”

Josie turned fully to her now, cupping Cruz’s face gently, needing the contact to ground them both. Her voice was steady, soft but insistent. “You’re not her. You never were. And I won’t let you slip back. You’re holding on too tight. You’ve got to let go a little.”

Cruz had fear in her eyes as she looked into Josie's. Her voice came out unsteady, each word scraped from somewhere deep inside. "I don't even know how to explain how hard I’m trying. I know what I’m doing, how I’m pulling from you, how I’m letting this get between us. I don’t want to, Jos. But it’s like I can’t stop. This feeling... it’s in me so deep, it’s like it has roots. I try to push it down, but it keeps climbing back up."

Cruz’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. “I don’t want to lose who I am with you. Not again, not like I did with Aaliyah.” Her voice wavered, just slightly, but Josie caught it. “Back then, I didn’t even realize how far gone I was until it was too late. I disappeared into a version of myself that was all mask. And when I came back out, I didn’t know if I’d ever find my way back to who I really was. You reminded me. You brought me home. And I’m terrified of slipping again.”

Josie squeezed her hand, steadying them both in the moment. “Then hold on. We’re still us. Even in this. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her voice trembled slightly, not with fear but with fierce love. “You’re not doing this alone. Whatever comes next, we are always together. Just like we always have been.”

The words sank in deep, steadying Cruz in a way no other person ever could. She nodded, pressing her forehead to Josie’s. “Please keep pulling me back, baby. Every damn time.”

As Cruz leaned into Josie, she hugged her tightly. Their tenderness lingered in the still night air, wrapping them in a fragile bubble untouched by the war outside.

Moments later, Joe appeared at the balcony doorway. Her expression was grim. She cleared her throat to announce her arrival.

"Cruz", she said softly. "I need you to come see this."

Cruz looked at Josie for a brief moment, then squared her shoulders and stepped forward, bracing herself for whatever intel Joe was about to deliver. Joe turned the monitor toward her, her expression tight. “New drone feed just came through. Al-Hamdan was caught on surveillance entering a high-rise. It’s unregistered. Not in any of our intel packages.”

Cruz straightened immediately. “Unlisted property?”

Joe nodded. “There is no security footprint. No blueprints on file. It could be his private fallback. Or worse, a planning center.”

“Send it to my tablet,” Cruz said, her voice sharpening into command. “I want full schematics pulled, everything. HVAC systems, elevator shafts, fire exits, all of it. If there’s a hole, I want to know where it leads.”

She turned to Josie, who gave her a nod before the two of them moved quickly inside. Cruz picked up the tablet from the table, its screen already flashing with a detailed rendering of the high-rise. Josie stood at her side, watching as Cruz swiped through camera angles and thermal overlays.

Cruz’s jaw was clenched, her eyes scanning every detail with laser focus. “Look at this corner here, windowless, reinforced frame. Could be a panic room or server vault.”

Josie leaned in closer, pointing. “And there’s only one interior access point. That’s intentional. He’s got escape plans on his mind.”

Cruz nodded, appreciating how seamlessly they worked together, their minds clicking in sync even when their hearts were heavy. Josie’s presence at her side helped soften the sharp edge of the coming storm, if only slightly.

She leaned in closer to the monitor, eyes narrowing. “Let's prep a recon team. We can't delay this anymore. We need eyes inside now. I want him profiled down to how many steps he takes between rooms.”

Joe gave her a firm nod. “On it.”

Cruz’s voice was low but firm. “Let’s move.”

As Joe turned away, Josie stayed back, eyes still on Cruz. Her wife looked composed. Sharp and in control. But beneath it all, Josie could see the how she was fighting herself.

She stepped close, touching Cruz’s back gently. “You’ve got this. I'm here. Don't forget.”

They briefly looked around to ensure they were alone and kissed each other, needing the contact and warmth they both knew they provided each other. Cruz gave her a quiet look, her eyes softening as she leaned in to cup Josie’s face. “I won’t,” she whispered, the promise etched into every syllable. Her fingers gently brushed along Josie’s cheekbone.  Josie’s eyes welled with tears she didn’t let fall, but the emotion between them was unmistakable. Cruz’s voice broke slightly as she added, “I wish we were back in our house... on the porch... or even better, in our bed. I just need to feel you, baby.”

Josie brought Cruz’s hands to her lips, pressing a kiss into her knuckles. “I know,” she murmured. “I want that more than anything too. Soon, baby. Soon.” She leaned in and kissed her again.  They lingered there, forehead to forehead, holding on tightly as the world demanded more of them than it ever should.

As Cruz walked to the comms room, Josie could feel the weight settle on her shoulders.

And she knew.....the hardest part was still ahead.

Chapter Text

Morning broke quietly over Istanbul, the light spilling over the rooftops.

Inside the safehouse, the mood was anything but peaceful.

Joe stood at the head of the room, a large digital display behind her showing a frozen image of Al-Hamdan exiting the high-rise. The full team had assembled: Josie, Bobby, Tex, Two Cups, Randy, Tucker, and Cruz, who stood slightly apart from the group, her arms crossed and expression unreadable.

"New intel," Joe began, tapping the screen. "This man here—" she zoomed in on a suited figure speaking with Al-Hamdan outside the high-rise, "—has been identified as Masoud Reza, known arms trafficker and logistics middleman for multiple terror-linked cells operating in Lebanon."

Another tap: the screen split to reveal a second man. "This is Faisal Qasmi. Active ties to Yemen and western Saudi Arabia. Both men are part of what looks like Al-Hamdan’s inner circle."

The team leaned forward, tension prickling the air.

Bobby whistled low. "That’s more of a power play than of a meeting being conducted."

"Exactly," Joe confirmed. "Al-Hamdan isn’t just financing anymore. He’s structuring cells. Consolidating power into something more dangerous than we’ve seen from his network before. We believe the café meeting shown in this next clip—" she tapped again, footage of a crowded outdoor café played—"was used to exchange physical intel: encrypted hard drives, possibly cash couriers."

Randy squinted at the footage, then leaned closer. "Is that Aaliyah again? Back left?"

Josie’s stomach turned. She hadn’t noticed her at first, but there she was, Aaliyah, sitting calmly with her son, as if this were a normal afternoon coffee. Close.

Way too close.

Cruz didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Her jaw clenched just slightly, the only outward signal of what brewed inside her.

Joe looked to her. "We’ll need eyes on that location if they meet there again. A tail team on the ground."

“I’ll do it,” Cruz said, her voice flat but resolute. Her eyes remained locked on the screen. A split-second decision rooted in guilt. She didn’t look at Josie, didn’t dare. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could hold the steel in her tone.

Everyone in the room stilled for a moment. Bobby glanced at Josie. Tex shifted in his seat.

Joe’s gaze lingered on Cruz. "Are you sure?"

Cruz nodded. "I’m sure."

Her voice betrayed no hesitation. But Josie’s heart sank. She heard it, not in what was said, but in what wasn’t. She watched Cruz’s face with the trained eye of someone who knew its every nuance, how she smiled when she didn’t mean it, how she blinked twice when she was forcing herself not to react. This wasn’t about bravery. This was about burden Cruz was carrying.  Josie saw the flicker of pain, the tremor in her stillness, and it sent a chill through her. Cruz had just volunteered to walk back into the eye of the storm, and though her tone was steel, her soul was shaking. Josie felt a quiet panic bloom in her chest, an ache she didn’t voice, knowing too well what it meant when Cruz hid behind professionalism. She was continuing to retreat.

The team disbanded slowly after the briefing. Randy and Two Cups stayed behind to log fresh perimeter data. Josie lingered at the back of the room, eyes fixed on the screen even after the images faded.

Later that morning, she found herself outside alone. The breeze carried the scent of spices from the nearby market. It should’ve been calming, but it wasn’t. Her mind replayed Cruz’s voice over and over.

“I’ll do it.”

The words struck like a ghost echoing from the past. Josie leaned on the iron rail, the metal biting into her palms as if it could keep her from unraveling. She focused on the skyline, blurred through a layer of emotion.

She wasn’t angry. No, this went deeper. She was scared. Scared that the mission was pulling Cruz backward, unpeeling the layers they had fought so hard to build. Scared that the walls Josie had helped and watched Cruz dismantle brick by brick were now being hastily rebuilt in silence.

Cruz had warned her, hadn’t she? That Zara never really died. That she only ever went quiet. Josie hadn’t understood what that meant until now. Zara wasn’t a person, she was a state of being. Cold, calculated, shut off from everything that made Cruz... Cruz. And now, Josie could feel her rising again, not in words or violence, but in retreat. In distance.

The worst part wasn’t watching Cruz shut others out, it was feeling her shut Josie out. One glance at the screen, one whispered offer to take point, and it had all rushed back like a tide Josie couldn’t stop. She wrapped her arms around herself now, not from cold, but from the hollowness that came with knowing someone you love is slipping away and there’s nothing you can do except wait and pray they reach back.

Please, she thought, eyes still fixed on the horizon. Don’t go where I can’t follow.

That night, Cruz found Josie on the rooftop garden.  Josie sat on the edge of a low bench, elbows on her knees, gaze fixed on the flickering city lights. The wind lifted her loose hair slightly, and she didn’t turn as Cruz approached, though her body tensed almost imperceptibly.

“You left the comms room this morning before I could talk to you,” Cruz said quietly, voice cautious. "I know you've been avoiding me all day."

“I needed space,” Josie replied, her voice soft but edged. “To think.”

Cruz stood beside her, not quite ready to sit. Her shadow stretched beside Josie’s in the amber rooftop lights. "You’re mad I volunteered."

“No, I’m scared you volunteered,” Josie said, finally turning to her. Her eyes were tired, red around the edges from emotion she hadn't let spill. “You said you didn’t want to lose yourself again, Cruz. But I see it happening. I see you going back into that old shell, and I don’t know if I can reach you once you’re fully in there."

Cruz swallowed hard. Her jaw worked as if trying to push the words through grief. “You’re right. I can feel myself pulling away, it’s easier than feeling all of this. But I volunteered because I have to start facing it. If I don’t, it’ll eat me alive. I need to prove to myself that I can do this.”

Josie stood now, chest rising and falling with everything she wanted to say but hadn’t yet. "And you will. But not if you walk into this all on your own.”

Cruz looked down. Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to shut you out. I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this and still be the woman you deserve.”

“You don’t have to do it perfectly,” Josie said, stepping closer. “You just have come to me when you need to.” She reached up, cupping her face gently, wiping away the single tear that had slipped down Cruz’s cheek. Her thumb lingered at the corner of her mouth. “I need to do the same Cruz.  I'm starting to break down inside.  I need you too."

Cruz leaned into her, forehead resting against Josie’s, eyes closing as if she could absorb her steadiness by touch alone. The flickering city stretched around them, but in that moment, the only world Cruz knew was the breath shared between them.

“I love you....I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I know,” Josie murmured. “I love you, too.”

As they leaned in to hold each other, Cruz’s phone buzzed sharply between them, breaking the moment. They both exhaled with visible frustration, the kind that comes from too many stolen moments lost to duty. Cruz sighed, her forehead briefly resting against Josie’s before she pulled back.  Josie closed her eyes, her hand rising to her temple as if the pressure there might subside. Her other hand settled at her hip, jaw tightening as she stared out over the darkened balcony, the flicker of city lights offering no comfort. The moment was gone, reclaimed by the mission, as always.

Joe texted Cruz to come to the comms room immediately. As they had done countless times throughout the mission, Cruz and Josie were forced to shelve their moment of connection, snapping back into operational mode with practiced urgency. They exchanged a brief, understanding look before quickly making their way down the hall toward the comms room, footsteps brisk and silent, hearts already shifting into mission focus.

As Cruz and Josie entered the comms room, Joe turned toward the monitor and loaded a new clip.  On the screen, Al-Hamdan appeared again, seated at the same café. This time, the footage was clearer, crisp enough to pick out subtle glances and body language. Masoud and Qasmi flanked him on either side, engaged in hushed conversation. Aaliyah, her son in tow, passed by once more, her posture unshaken. Her eyes briefly met Al-Hamdan’s, steady, unreadable, and then she moved on without pause.

Joe’s voice came through the comms quietly. “The meeting is happening again. We’ll need boots near that café tomorrow. Cruz, get ready.”

Cruz nodded slowly. Her face was stone, but her fingers trembled slightly at her side.

“I’m ready,” she said, and her voice barely carried.

Josie stood next to her, close enough that their shoulders touched.

And silently, she reached for her hand.

Cruz took it.

She was ready.

But they both knew the wound was only just beginning to open.

Chapter Text

The morning air in Istanbul was thick with anticipation. The team moved in near silence through the safehouse, each member preparing for the delicate surveillance op ahead. The clink of gear, the soft murmur of comms checks, it was all ritual now. But tension hung over the room.

Josie leaned against the wall near the gear table, watching Cruz from across the room. Her heart caught at the sight. Cruz moved like a machine, every action precise, checking her sidearm, adjusting her jacket, testing her mic and earpiece again even though Josie knew she'd already done it twice. This wasn’t just about focus but control for her. And Josie knew this was Cruz's way to avoid from falling apart.

Everything about Cruz’s movements was sharp and practiced. Too practiced. Josie saw the calm precision for what it really was, Cruz's internal shield. 

Bobby approached and handed Cruz a small tablet with the latest layout of the café. "We’ll be three blocks out. We’ve got your six, no matter what," she said, her voice low but full of assurance.

Cruz gave him a tight nod. "Roger that."

Tucker and Randy double-checked vehicle placements and ingress routes. Two Cups and Tex were reviewing optics placements along the exterior, maintaining high ground. The whole team knew the stakes. They didn’t talk about it, but they knew. This one was different. This one cut deep for Cruz.

Joe stepped forward and gave Cruz a final glance, her tone even but knowing. "Time on target is 0820. You're in position by 0800. Just blend in, observe and report what you see. Stay very fluid."

Cruz met her gaze and nodded again. "Understood."

The room started to disperse into motion, but Josie stayed. She crossed to Cruz, her boots soft on the floor, and placed a hand gently on her arm. Cruz stilled at the touch.

"You good?" Josie asked, voice barely above a whisper, but charged.

Cruz nodded. Her lips were tight, her posture squared, but her eyes flickered just slightly. "Yeah, I'm good. I’ve got it."  She then gave her a slight smile.

Josie didn’t answer right away. She just looked at her, really looked, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the subtle draw in her jaw, the way the shadows under her eyes had deepened in the last 24 hours.

“Come back to me the same woman who just said that,” Josie whispered, her voice trembling slightly, full of both command and hope.

Cruz blinked once, and her eyes held something raw for the briefest second. Then it was gone.

They didn’t kiss. But their eyes locked, full of everything they couldn’t say out loud right now. Their gazes showed the love, the fear and, the promise all at once.

I love you, Cruz mouthed.

I love you, Josie echoed back.

Then Cruz turned and walked out, the door clicking behind her.  A long silence now present that Josie didn’t know how to fill.

The café was already half full when Cruz arrived, dressed in a muted gray blazer and dark jeans, her hair tied back in a low knot. She walked in slowly, her senses heightened, her breath measured but tight in her chest. She chose a seat in the corner with a wide angle of view, habit and instinct. Her order was simple: tea, no milk. Her cover: solo traveler, tablet out and writing emails before a meeting. It was convincing enough, if anyone cared to notice.

The earpiece crackled gently. "Comms clear," Bobby's voice came through. "We're reading thermal signatures. You have coverage."

"Copy," Cruz murmured, her voice low and steady, though it cost her effort.

She barely touched the tea. Her eyes moved constantly, tagging everyone instinctively. She clocked the exits, marked the mirrors, memorized the barista’s path to the counter. Her fingers curled lightly around the warm ceramic, but she didn’t drink.

Then the door opened.

And Aaliyah stepped in.

She stepped inside with her son beside her.  His small hand tucked trustingly in his mother's hand.  Time stopped. Cruz froze and her breath hitched in her throat. She hadn’t seen her in person in years, but the recognition was instant and absolute. Aaliyah looked the same yet different.  Aged by grief and resilience, but she still carried that same quiet grace. Her hair was covered loosely in a pale scarf, her blouse cream-colored, soft, almost ethereal. Her earrings caught the morning light. The boy, he had Aaliyah’s eyes. And maybe, just maybe, her strength too.

Her fingers tensed around the cup she hadn’t lifted. Her pulse pounded in her ears, pounding against her skull like a drumbeat. The café noise fell away.

You knew this could happen. You're prepared.  S tay focused.

But watching Aaliyah from across the room, literally ten yards from her, was like being split down the center.

She remembered the compound in Mallorca, sunlight on stone, jasmine in the air. The way Aaliyah had laughed, carefree and vibrant, before everything changed. She remembered the softness of her voice, the quiet trust in her touch, the way they walked the grounds and just talked.

And she remembered the kitchen. The blood. The look Aaliyah never got to give her, because Cruz had already vanished.

Now, Aaliyah was here. With her son and a mother.

And she had no idea the woman across the room had once loved her.

Back in the van, Josie watched the live feed from Cruz’s chest camera. Aaliyah’s profile appeared on the screen, then the boy, his small hand clasped in his mother's hand, their pace unhurried, unaware.

Josie barely breathed. Her stomach was twisted into a knot so tight it hurt to sit still. The tablet screen illuminated her face, but her focus wasn’t on the image of Aaliyah, it was on Cruz. Her wife. The woman she knew better than anyone else.

Bobby glanced at her, his voice low. "She’s holding steady."

Josie nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving the display. Her hands, clenched so tightly around the edge of the screen, trembled slightly. "She’s not watching the café," she murmured more to herself than anyone else. "She’s watching her past walk through the door."

Bobby looked at her, saying nothing.

“She’s unraveling,” Josie whispered, her voice tight, raw. Her heart beat faster with every passing second she saw the emotion ripple across Cruz’s otherwise composed face. “I can just sense it in my gut.”

“No,” Bobby said softly, a subtle shake of her head. “She’s walking the edge. But she’s still standing. That’s Cruz.”

Josie nodded again, slower this time. "Keep telling me that, I need to hear it."

Her lips pressed together to hold back the words that threatened to spill. Please don’t fall, she thought. Come back to me, baby.

Al-Hamdan entered ten minutes later with Reza and Qasmi. They took a table near the front, settling in with the kind of casual authority that only came from long-standing power.

Cruz didn’t look at them directly. She sipped her tea, fingers wrapped around the ceramic. Her tablet rested on the table, a passive shield, and she watched their movements in the reflection of the window rather than turn her gaze.

Focus, she told herself again, more command than reminder.

She observed as Reza discreetly passed a flash drive beneath the table. Qasmi handed off a small sealed envelope in return, clean, silent, and practiced. A classic dead-drop trade. Nothing overt, but everything important.

But then Aaliyah turned her head, speaking softly to her son. She smiled and laughed with him.

And it shattered Cruz.

It was a full, radiant smile, the one Cruz remembered from that lazy afternoon in Mallorca when they spoke about their dreams. That smile, unchanged by time, stabbed right through her.

Her hand twitched involuntarily.

Her breath caught.

She could feel her pulse in her throat, memories crashing in like waves. The softness of Aaliyah’s voice, the gentleness in her eyes, the way she used to rest a hand on Cruz’s forearm when she laughed. That quiet tenderness now directed at her son.

And in that moment, Cruz felt herself slipping.

But then, like a lifeline thrown across a ship, she heard Josie’s voice through the comms.

"You’re doing great, Cruz. Just breathe."

Josie’s tone was calm and warm, but steady. That voice relaxed her. It wrapped around the chaos clawing at her ribs like a shield. It didn’t just steady her, it reminded her of who she was, of who was waiting for her.

Cruz closed her eyes briefly. Let it settle. Her breathing evened. Her grip on the moment returned.

Her lips parted, barely above a whisper. "I'm good," she said, not just for Josie, but for herself too.

The meeting ended without disruption. Al-Hamdan and his men left first. Aaliyah and her son followed, leaving through the opposite door. Cruz stayed ten more minutes, logging everything, her hand steady despite the riot of feeling beneath her skin. Then she stood, heart pounding in her throat, and exited casually, like the world hadn't just tilted.

Josie was waiting near the alley three blocks away, standing under a flickering streetlamp. When Cruz appeared, Josie took a step forward, but didn’t speak. She just looked at her, closely, carefully.

Cruz’s jaw was tight, her eyes distant, haunted. Her shoulders were rigid, as though she hadn’t breathed since the moment she saw Aaliyah walk through that door.

“You saw her,” Josie said softly, her voice edged, though her chest was tight.

Cruz didn’t answer right away. Her mouth opened slightly, as if the words were stuck behind her teeth. Her eyes, usually so guarded, flickered with a pain Josie hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Yes,” Cruz finally said, and the words came out like gravel. She looked down, away from Josie, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. “And the boy. He’s...he’s beautiful.”

Josie stepped a little closer, her fingers brushing lightly against Cruz’s arm before sliding down to take her hand. “You held it together better than you think.”

Cruz gave a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite. “Barely. I was shaking inside, Josie. Every fucking second.”

Josie tilted her head to catch her eyes. “But you came back to me. That’s what matters.”

Cruz looked at her now, really looked. The emotions behind her gaze were a storm, grief, guilt, love, all crashing together. “I kept thinking about the last time I saw her. About how much I hurt her. And yet... all I wanted to do was run to you.”

Josie stepped closer, her other hand rising to cup Cruz’s cheek. “Then that’s what you hold on to. What we have.”

Cruz leaned into the touch like it was the only thing she had. “I love you,” she whispered.

Josie’s reply was just as soft, just as sure, but layered with the kind of fierce devotion she only ever gave to Cruz. “I love you too. So much, baby.” Her voice trembled slightly, not from doubt but from the sheer magnitude of emotion she carried for her. Josie had never loved anyone like this before with every fiber of her being.

Cruz leaned her forehead into Josie’s shoulder for just a second. Josie’s hand came up and ran through her hair without hesitation.

Back at the safehouse, Cruz moved in a daze. She stripped off the blazer and gear in silence, the others giving her the space she needed. No one asked questions. No one needed to. She entered the shower alone, and the moment the water hit her skin, she exhaled a trembling breath she’d been holding for hours. She pressed her forehead to the tile, letting the scalding water blur the hidden tears she didn’t want to shed.

She thought of Aaliyah’s smile. Of the boy. Of the fact that she didn’t recognize the woman who once gave her everything and got nothing back but ruin.

After stepping out of the shower, Cruz dried off slowly, her limbs heavy with fatigue. She slipped into a soft T-shirt and cotton shorts, her movements sluggish, deliberate. Her hair still damp and skin flushed from the heat of the water, she walked quietly through the dimly lit bedroom, the emotional weight of the day pressing against every nerve.

She climbed into bed with a sigh, sinking beneath the sheets with an almost mechanical rhythm. Her body was clean, but her mind remained clouded, whirring with fractured memories and unspoken thoughts. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, unblinking, detached.

Moments later, Josie entered the room. She’d been observing her since they got back from the stakeout, sensing that Cruz needed the space first. When she saw her wife lying still, unmoving, she quietly moved to the other side of the bed and eased down beside her. The mattress dipped gently under her weight. Josie didn’t reach out right away. She simply lay there, close enough for Cruz to feel her warmth, close enough for their breathing to slowly find the same rhythm.

She waited in silence, offering the one thing she knew Cruz needed most, no questions, no explanations, just a steady presence. That kind of unwavering support still, deep, and pure, was something Cruz had never known until Josie.

Cruz knew that kind of grace was rare. 

Cruz rolled over slowly. She turned into Josie’s arms, letting herself be pulled in close. Josie held her as though nothing else in the world mattered, her hand running slowly through Cruz’s damp hair.

“I tried to prepare for this,” Cruz whispered finally. “But nothing...nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing her in person. And him. Like that.”

“I know, baby,” Josie murmured. “Just let me hold you. I need it too.”

She pulled Cruz in closer, not just for Cruz’s sake, but for her own. What they were navigating was pulling them both under, and Josie needed this moment as much as Cruz did. Holding her, grounding her, it was the only thing that made sense anymore. The feel of Cruz's body trembling slightly against her chest reminded Josie that love wasn’t just about strength. Sometimes, it was about stillness. About making each other feel whole.

And in the hush between heartbeats, Cruz let the pain go just a little.

As Josie continued to hold her.

Chapter Text

The sun crept over Istanbul’s horizon with little warmth and muted shadows across the safehouse walls. The air inside was thick with a silence that felt earned, too many truths left unsaid, too many ghosts lingering beneath the surface. Cruz sat at the end of the briefing table, motionless except for the slow drag of her thumb along the edge of her tablet. Her eyes were locked on the screen, but she wasn’t really seeing it. Instead, she saw Aaliyah’s smile again. The boy’s face flickered next, small and innocent, completely unaware of how his presence now tore into her.

Cruz hadn’t slept. Not truly. Her mind hadn’t stopped replaying the past in brutal, looping clarity. Cruz sat at the end of the briefing table, eyes locked on the tablet in front of her as the rest of the team filtered in.

Josie entered last, her expression unreadable. She took a seat at the far side of the table, her eyes scanning Cruz, not missing the subtle tension in her jaw or the paleness that hadn’t faded. Joe stood off to the side, ready to lead the morning brief.

“Let’s keep this tight,” Joe began, her voice brisk. “Surveillance confirms that Al-Hamdan is using a secondary residence for exchanges. Last night’s footage gave us the first full facial confirmation on Reza during a pass-off. We need full coverage moving forward. Cruz?”

Cruz straightened slightly. “Two Cups, Tuck and Tex will cover the north and east perimeter. Bobby, you’re with Randy monitoring data feeds and satellite pings. Josie will continue piloting the drone feed in the comms room.  I’ll be working with Joe on asset tracking.”

Her voice was flat, almost mechanical. The usual fire, the command behind her words, was gone. Josie heard it immediately. She glanced across the table. Bobby noticed too. Everyone did, even if no one said it aloud. Bobby exchanged a glance with Joe, who gave a subtle nod.

Later on, as the team dispersed and the last footsteps faded down the hallway, Josie lingered behind, her eyes following Cruz. She waited a moment, watching her wife’s rigid posture, the way her shoulders stayed stern even as the room emptied. Then, slowly, Josie crossed the space between them. Her boots were nearly silent against the tile, but her presence was a steady force. She stopped just behind Cruz, close enough to feel the tension radiating off her. Josie took a breath, grounding herself before speaking, knowing that what she said next had to reach through the wall Cruz was building around herself.

“You’re fading....and fast,” she said gently, her voice not accusing, just observant, filled with concern. "I can see it in your eyes. You’re somewhere else. And I know that place isn’t safe. Not for you. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Cruz didn’t look up. Her eyes remained fixed on the table, the lines in the wood suddenly more compelling than anything else around her. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Josie replied more firmly, her voice a quiet urgency. She stepped even closer, close enough to feel the tremor beneath Cruz’s stillness. “And I’m not here to interrogate you, Cruz. I just…” She paused, searching for the right words as her voice tightened with restrained emotion.   "You haven't been the same since you saw Aaliyah and her son in the cafe yesterday, I can see you are still reeling from it."  She paused to get her point across even more clearly.  “It’s one thing when you shut down because this is personal.  But it’s something else entirely when it starts affecting everyone around you.”

She hesitated, then pressed on, needing to say what had been bothering her. “You’ve been holding it together. You've been doing the job.  And I get it, I do. But you’re not thinking clearly anymore. And that’s dangerous. You’re going to end up putting yourself, the team... me, in jeopardy. And I can’t let that happen.”

That landed. Cruz’s hand, which had been fidgeting absently with the edge of her tablet, stilled. Her fingers pressed flat against the surface. Her jaw tightened, throat working.

“I thought I was ready,” she said at last, voice low and raspy. “But seeing her. The kid. It knocked me sideways. I felt like I was looking at a life that kept going after I blew it to pieces.”

Josie crossed to her, slowly, and reached out. She rested her hand over Cruz’s, steadying her. Her touch was warm, reassuring.

“I know,” she whispered. "But baby, you’ve got to keep talking about what’s happening with you. The team is counting on you, and they believe in you. But if it ever gets too much, if you need to take a breath, then let Joe take over completely. Just until you find your balance again. No one would see it as weakness. Especially not me."

Cruz shook her head slowly, her voice faltering. "Josie, do you know what kills me the most? I never told her who I really was. I couldn't.  She only knew this version of me, a fucking farce."

She paused, her eyes dark with emotion. "And now, I have to see her again, walk into a room like a stranger, with a little boy at her side, her son, Josie, and pretend all over again." Her breath hitched. "That's part of what’s driving me crazy. It’s not just seeing her. It’s having to do this to her all over again."

Her voice cracked at the end, and for a moment she couldn’t go on. Josie watched as Cruz clenched her jaw, struggling to gather the composure that was slipping from her fingers. Her eyes fluttered shut, a trembling breath escaping her chest.

When she opened them again, something had shifted, resolve replacing vulnerability. "But I won’t let the team down," she said quietly, with more strength behind the words now. "I won’t let you down. I’m here. I’ll process what I need to, I’ll push through. Just... you have to trust me. Even when I’m torn up inside. Trust that I can find my way through this."

Josie knew there was something more, something Cruz hadn’t said, hadn’t been able to. Up until now, she had believed Cruz’s sharing meant she wasn’t shutting down completely. But now, with her silence, the stiffness in her shoulders, Josie saw it differently. There was another layer, something buried even deeper. She approached her again, steady and sure, knowing that Cruz would default to compartmentalizing....her survival mechanism. "There’s more, Cruz," Josie said, her voice low but unwavering. "You’re holding back something else. I can see it now. I didn’t before. Damn it, talk to me.........Please."

But before Cruz could answer, the alert buzzed sharply. A call for her to report to the intel room. Josie’s hand flew up to her forehead, rubbing it in quiet frustration. Cruz didn’t speak. Her eyes said everything. She wanted to stay, needed to, but duty was calling. They locked eyes, and Josie gave a small nod, her voice thick with feeling. "Go. I know you have to."

Cruz hesitated, aching to reach for her, but turned and left.

As the door closed, Josie sat down heavily in the nearest chair, her hands cradling her head. The pressure of the mission pressed against her ribs. She had truly believed nothing could ever come between them. But now, for the first time in their relationship, she was afraid. Afraid that what was happening in this mission might be the one thing powerful enough to pull them apart.

That she could lose Cruz.

That they could lose each other.

Over the next few days, surveillance intensified, tension sounding under the surface of every movement. Tex and Two Cups tailed a courier linked to Al-Hamdan, tracking him across alleys and rooftop shadows while Bobby, Tucker and Randy worked deep in the tech hub of the safehouse, their screens lit with lines of code. They decoded encrypted packets siphoned from the secondary location’s Wi-Fi, each burst of intel feeding the team’s mounting urgency.

Cruz and Josie had not spoken much since that last conversation when Josie had finally tried to corner Cruz. They had rotating separate shifts, often missing each other by mere minutes. Their schedules became a choreography of avoidance, not by design but by necessity. Every missed glance, every word left unsaid, widened the space between them, and in that quiet gap, doubts began to take root. Josie felt it growing. Cruz felt it too, but she didn’t know how to bridge it, not when she barely recognized herself.

Joe eventually pulled Cruz aside into a quiet corner of the safehouse, the fluorescent light above them flickering faintly. The soundproofed walls swallowed their voices, but the tension needed no echo.

"You’re still leading," Joe said gently, arms crossed. "But you’re not connecting with anyone......not even Josie."

Cruz let out a sharp breath, shoulders rigid. “I’m getting the fucking job done.” She shook her head in frustration.

“That’s not enough. Not for this,” Joe replied. “You’re trying to deal with it all alone again. I’ve seen this part of you before.”

Cruz looked away, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “I don’t know how to do it any other way.”

Joe stepped in closer, softer now but unwavering. “You’re not undercover anymore Cruz. And this isn’t Mallorca. You’ve earned more than just surviving. You have something to lose now, someone who’s waiting for you to fight your way back. Not to mention the entire team is counting on you.  Pull your head out of your ass or I will take over completely.”  Joe had to resort to the part of her that Cruz knew all to well.....this mission would not be impacted any personal issues.

Cruz looked at Joe, eyes glinting with unshed emotion.

Bobby found Josie outside later, leaning against the alley wall near the safehouse building. The cool night air clung to them, sharp with city dust. Her brow was furrowed, her shoulders tight. She hadn’t moved in minutes.

Josie held an unlit cigarette in her hand, twirling it between her fingers. Bobby’s eyes widened as she noticed it. “Since when do you smoke?” she asked, her expression scrunching into a look of disgust.

Josie gave a half-hearted smirk, glancing down at the cigarette. “I used to. In high school. Stopped once I got into West Point.” She paused, then sighed. “I was going to light up just now to relax, but... it’s fucking stupid.”

Without another word, she threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with her boot, more forcefully than necessary.

Bobby raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned against the wall beside her, folding her arms as the quiet settled back in.

"She’s struggling so badly," Josie said, her voice low, almost cracked. "I know her signs, the way she stops making eye contact, the silence. It's getting so much fucking worse."

Bobby looked at her.  "So are you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed."

Josie turned her head slowly, eyes shining under the dim streetlamp. "I feel like I’m losing her, even though she’s standing right in front of me. She shares some of it, enough to make it look like connection, but she’s slipping somewhere I can’t reach her. I don’t know how to reach her when she’s so deep inside her own head."

Bobby’s voice softened, losing its usual edge. "Then hold her tighter, Thunder. You know how she is, she won’t ask for help. She never has. You’ll have to just do it. Even if she pushes you away. Especially then."

Josie looked down. "I’ve always been the strong one, the fixer. But with her... it’s different. She breaks quietly. And I... I hate watching her hurt. I hate how fucking helpless it makes me feel."

Bobby glanced sideways at her, his tone more gentle now. "She doesn’t need you to save her, Josie. She just needs to know she’s worth saving. And maybe you need to hear that too, you’re not just dealing her pain. You’re living this too.  You've got your own doubts I know you are working through.  Don't think I haven't seen it.  You're holding back too, I think afraid to really hear what she has to say."

Josie looked up at the sky, its vastness mirroring the ache in her chest. Bobby was right, she hadn’t pushed hard enough. Because deep down, she feared what she might find if she forced Cruz to lay it all bare. She had tiptoed around the pain, afraid that the truth might not just crack Cruz, but shatter something inside herself too. That maybe the walls Cruz had built weren’t just protecting her, they were holding back something that could break them both.

Josie exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing, just a little. "Thanks, Bobby. I need to hear that."

Bobby offered a small, rare smile. "You don’t have to thank me. Just bring her back. Both of you come back whole."

That night, the safehouse was still. Cruz returned late, boots scuffing softly across the floor. Josie sat on the edge of their bed, awake, her eyes heavy with fatigue but sharper with emotion. She’d been waiting, hands folded in her lap, the glow from the lamp beside her casting a halo across her cheekbones.

She didn’t move.

Cruz sat on the other side of the bed and began to remove her shoes, her fingers fumbling slightly. She could tell Josie was deep in thought, too quiet, too still. A tension had settled in the room like a storm waiting to break. Cruz’s stomach knotted as a faint tremble ran through her. She knew the signs.

Josie was nearing the end of her patience.

She reached out, gently placing a hand on Josie’s shoulder, but the moment her fingers touched her, Josie abruptly stood. Her arms crossed tight over her chest as she turned and walked toward the sliding glass door, which stood open to the wraparound balcony. The cool breeze drifted in, ruffling the hem of her shirt.

The sudden movement startled Cruz. She stood quickly, a sinking feeling growing heavy in her chest. This was it. The moment she had feared. Josie wasn’t going to accept pieces of the truth anymore, half answers about Aaliyah, vague words about the mission. Not when everything between them was unraveling.

Cruz stared at Josie’s back, her breath caught, her eyes wide. Josie turned slowly. There was fire in her gaze, but her voice came low, shaking at the edges. The calm before the storm.

“I don’t want to be the woman you pass by while you bury everything inside,” Josie said.

Her chest rose and fell with tight, uneven breaths. She was holding it together by sheer will. The cracks in her were small and silent, but they were there, buried under every unanswered question, every moment Cruz had pulled away. And now, Cruz’s silence made it even harder not to fall apart.

“I know how difficult this is for you. The guilt you’ve been carrying. The hesitation, the second-guessing. I see all of it,” Josie continued, voice thickening. “You’ve been sharing with me, but not everything. You’re still holding back… way back. And I can’t take it anymore.”

Her voice broke slightly, and she turned her face away as her arms tightened around herself. “I’m losing you. We’re losing each other.”

Cruz’s heart twisted. She took a step forward, but Josie stepped back, just slightly, and that made Cruz freeze. Josie had never done that. Not once in all their time together.

“I’m trying,” Cruz said, the words rushed, desperate.

Josie’s eyes flashed with a fierceness bordering on anger. “No. You’re not.”

She advanced now, voice rising.

“You don’t want to tell me something. You’re drowning, Cruz. And it’s like you want to drown. Like you need to. It’s not just guilt. Or shame. It’s something else. And I need to know. I deserve to know.”

She paused to breathe, shaking her head as if trying to keep herself steady. “Do you even realize what I’ve been going through? Trying to hold it together, for you, for me, for us? I’ve been trying so hard to be strong, to support you, and in doing that, I’ve been neglecting myself. Neglecting how this has made me feel. Do you care, Cruz? Do you even see it?”

“Of course I care,” Cruz said, her voice cracking. “Baby, I love you—”

Josie cut her off. “You say you love me. And I believe you. I have never doubted your love for me."  She paused as her resolve was close to sinking her.  The one question at the tip of her tongue which she had held back, for fear of the response Cruz would give.  Her own fears kept it at bay.  But now, the time had come to ask.....it needed to be asked.  She exhaled and continued.

"I asked you something before. I asked if you still cared about Aaliyah. I didn’t ask if you still loved her.”

Her voice wavered. Her heart was in her throat now.

“I was too afraid of the answer. That’s my fault. I let my own fear get in the way of what I should have asked the moment her name came up in this mission.”

She looked Cruz in the eyes, straight through her.

“I never asked if you’re still in love with her,” Josie said, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady. Her eyes were locked on Cruz, pleading for clarity. “So I’m asking you now, Cruz.” She swallowed hard, the pain of even saying the words cracking through her composure. “Are you... Are you still in love with Aaliyah?”

Her chest tightened, panic swelling beneath her ribs as she waited. She hated herself for asking, hated that she needed to know. But more than anything, she was terrified of what Cruz’s answer might be. What if Aaliyah still held more than just a sliver of her wife’s heart? What if Cruz hesitated? That silence, that moment of not knowing, was already cutting Josie deeper than she thought possible.

Cruz’s heart dropped.

It was the question she’d been avoiding. The one she hadn’t even answered herself. Not fully. When Aaliyah’s name came up during the mission, all those locked-away memories came surging back.  The grief, love, regret, betrayal, pain. It had twisted her insides, left her paralyzed. And then there was Josie, her wife, her present and future.

How could she tell Josie any of this without destroying her?

Cruz stayed silent.

And in that silence, Josie began to crumble.

She stepped closer, her voice softer now, trembling. “I don’t need you to protect me from the truth. I just need the truth, Cruz. Right now. Or you and I both know… it could be the beginning of the end for us.”

The words sliced through them both. Josie’s voice cracked, but she didn’t take them back. Cruz saw it in her eyes, this wasn’t a threat. It was a reality.

“Tell me,” Josie whispered. “You owe me that.”

Cruz's chest ached with a tight, unrelenting pressure. Her lips parted as if to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She looked down, the flicker of emotion in her eyes betraying the calm she tried to maintain. Swallowing hard, she took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, her gaze drifting toward Josie as she braced herself for the vulnerability that was to come.

“At first,” she began, voice raw, “I thought I did.”

Josie didn’t move. She waited.

“I never dealt with what I felt for Aaliyah,” Cruz continued. “Not really. I just buried it. Locked it away. I never thought I’d have to face it again. When you and I met… it didn’t even come up. Because I only wanted you. I needed you. You gave me everything......love, safety, truth. It was all I wanted. It is all I want.”

Cruz stepped closer, her voice breaking. “But when Aaliyah resurfaced, I asked myself the same question. I hated myself for even thinking about it. For even wondering if I still felt something that strongly for her. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to ruin what we have. So I kept it to myself. And I was wrong to do that.”

She reached for Josie, but didn’t touch her yet.

“I told you before… that a part of me would always love her. That’s true. But you’re asking me something deeper.”

Cruz blinked, a tear slipping free. A moment of reckoning.

“And the answer is no. I’m not in love with her.......not anymore.”

She exhaled like she had been holding that breath for weeks.

“The only woman I am in love with is you. Only you. You.”

Her voice steadied as she said it.

“I see you and all I want is to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. You, Josie. It’s always been just you. Even when I doubted myself, when I was trying to figure out what all of this meant, you were still the only thing I was sure of.”

She paused and added, softer, “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you sooner. I should never have let you feel like you were alone in this.”

Josie’s body finally released the tension she’d been carrying. Her heart had been pounding through every word, every second of silence. And now, she could breathe again. The ache was still there, but now it had space to soften.

She stepped forward and cupped Cruz’s face, her thumb brushing the wet trail beneath her eye.

Cruz instantly rested her hands at Josie’s waist, her grip gentle.

Josie’s voice broke softly, thick with emotion but full of determination. “I was scared, Cruz. So scared of what her coming back into your life might mean. Because I know you never fully dealt with what you felt for her, not really. And this mission... it forced you to face it. I knew it would. And that terrified me. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I saw something coming that neither of us were ready for.”

She paused, pressing her forehead to Cruz’s, her voice trembling. “I tried so hard to get you to open up. And you did, in pieces. But I knew there was more, so much more. And I let my own fear keep me from pressing where I needed to when I should’ve. I should’ve been braver.”

Josie pulled back just enough to meet Cruz’s eyes, her voice gaining strength. “But we can’t ever do this to each other again. We can’t internalize something so important and let fear pull us apart. Our whole relationship has been built on fighting for each other, on never walking away, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.”

Her fingers curled around Cruz’s. “We have to promise each other, right here, right now, no more walls. No more shutting down. Not when things get hard. That’s when we have to fight even harder to stay connected. Our love is strong. We’ve proven that again and again. But our trust, our belief in each other, has to be just as unshakable. I promise you that.”

Cruz nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Josie leaned in and kissed her, softly, lovingly. A kiss not of desperation but of reunion. Of understanding.

Cruz gently grabbed Josie’s hands, bringing them up between them and pressing soft kisses to her knuckles, one after the other, like she was making a vow with each one. Her voice cracked with emotion as she whispered, "I promise you, baby. I won’t shut down on you again. I realize how much pain it causes, how much I’ve hurt you. And I can’t keep doing that. You’re the most important person in my life. You’re everything to me."

She kissed Josie’s hands again, slower this time, lingering. There was nothing rushed in the gesture, only pure, heartfelt love. "I won’t do that again."

Josie watched her, breath catching in her throat, tears brimming again, not from pain this time, but from relief. From the unmistakable truth in Cruz’s eyes, in her trembling voice, in the fierce way she held her hands like lifelines.

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Cruz’s. "Ok," Josie whispered. "Ok, baby."

Cruz kissed her nose, then her forehead, before finally brushing her lips against Josie’s once more. Her touch lingered this time. She pulled back just slightly, enough to look into Josie’s eyes. "I still feel everything I did to her..... all of it," Cruz said quietly, her voice barely more than a breath. "The guilt. The shame. Everything I buried when I completed that mission. But I’m not going to do it on my own anymore."

Josie cupped her face, eyes soft but unwavering. "You’re not. Not ever again."

“I know you still have these feelings,” Josie whispered, reading her heart. “But you’ll release it one day....all of it. And I’ll be there when you do.”

Cruz stared into her eyes, feeling the full weight of what they were. What they had. What they would survive.

In all the time they had worked together, they had drawn a line, never crossing into sex during a mission. But tonight, after everything they had just endured, that line vanished. The past few days pressed down on them, raw and relentless, and they could no longer hold back.

Josie quietly slid the glass door shut and drew the curtain, sealing them off from the world outside. Cruz turned the lock on the bedroom door, a small but necessary gesture to keep the chaos out. Without a word, they turned off the light, the room falling into darkness softened by the city’s glow.

They fell into each other with a need that wasn’t just about desire, it was about connection, about connecting themselves to each other again. In that space, nothing could interrupt them. Not the mission. Not the ghosts. The only needed each other.

She kissed Josie again, deeper now, their mouths moving with aching familiarity. Cruz’s hands slid up Josie’s arms, then under her shirt, grounding herself in the rhythm of her breath, the heat of her skin.

Josie pulled Cruz’s shirt over her head, trailing her fingers down the lines of her back like she was relearning her body. Grounding her in return.

There would be more to say, more to feel. But for now, they were here. No more distance and no more doubt.

Only them.

They undressed each other slowly. Cruz kissed the scar on Josie's leg, the scar she'd kissed so many times before to show her how much she admired her strength.  Josie cupped Cruz’s face between her hands, whispering possessively, “You’re mine.”

When their bodies finally pressed together, it wasn’t hurried or wild, it was deliberate and sacred. Cruz’s mouth explored Josie’s skin, needing to touch her everywhere to believe. Josie arched toward her, not with urgency but with trust. Every movement was a promise: I’m here. I see you. I’m not going anywhere.

They moved together with a quiet intensity, breathing each other in, rediscovering the rhythm they thought they were losing. Cruz whispered Josie’s name feeling the love she felt so deeply for her. Josie responded with soft gasps, her hands splayed along Cruz’s back, holding her like she could stitch her soul back together.

They came together in a slow crash, wrapped in sweat and whispering to each other, their foreheads pressed, their fingers laced tight. As Cruz trembled in Josie’s arms, she felt herself return, not to the mission, not to duty, but to the only place she’d ever truly belonged.

Josie held her tighter, needing it too, needing to feel something solid beneath all the shifting weight. Her hand moved gently along Cruz’s back, keeping her tied to the moment.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them had changed. It was no longer heavy, it was full, like a breath neither had realized they’d been holding finally let go.

Josie’s fingers gently traced small, absent-minded circles across Cruz’s shoulder, grounding them in the now. Her heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from fear, it was from the raw, beautiful intensity of being fully seen.

“You’re here....you're really here,” she whispered, her lips brushing Cruz’s temple, the words soft with the realization that Cruz was finally, truly present with her, emotionally, not just physically, for the first time since the mission began. It was a moment Josie had longed for through sleepless nights and distant glances, and now that it was here, she held onto it like breath after surfacing from deep water.

Cruz turned her face slightly, her nose brushing Josie’s cheek as she replied, her voice quiet but sure. “I'm here baby.  There’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”

She kissed Josie once more, slow and lingering, before they shifted together under the blanket. Josie pulled her closer, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist, and Cruz tucked her head into the space beneath Josie’s chin. They didn’t speak again. In the quiet rhythm of their breaths, in the warmth of their skin touching beneath the covers, was everything they needed to say.

They fell asleep like that, intertwined, safe, and a little more at peace with all they were enduring.

In the early dawn morning, a soft chime from the tablet lit up the nightstand. Josie stirred first, untangling herself gently from Cruz’s arms and reaching across the bed. The glow from the screen caught the edge of her face as Bobby’s voice came over comms. “Al-Hamdan’s en route to the secondary residence. Recon is a go.”

Cruz blinked awake, the sound cutting through the fog of sleep, but not the peace she’d reclaimed in Josie’s arms. She sat up slowly, her body still warm from the night before, the closeness they’d rediscovered still clinging to her skin.

Josie turned toward her, eyes steady, already awake in the ways that mattered. Their gazes locked, and in that shared glance was everything, trust, clarity, purpose.

Cruz reached for her shirt, sliding it on with methodical calm. She stood, the mission returning to her shoulders, but this time she felt stronger, determined and ready to lead in full force.

She looked at Josie, who nodded once.

“Let’s finish this,” Cruz said, her voice no longer uncertain, but resolute.

Chapter Text

The sun had barely crested over the skyline when Tex and Two Cups were already in position across from the sleek, glass-fronted high-rise in the heart of Istanbul. Unlike the winding, dusty streets surrounding Al-Hamdan’s primary compound, this building was all steel and reflection, a silent monolith in the early morning haze. The team knew from last night’s drone feed that Al-Hamdan had slipped inside through the private entrance, and now, every movement in or out was being logged.

Inside the safehouse, tension coiled through the air. Cruz monitored the live feeds beside Bobby. Her face had regained its sharp edges, the dark circles under her eyes hadn’t faded, but her presence was steadier, her posture solid with focus. Still, beneath the mission-ready exterior was a steady churn she kept locked behind her eyes. Every hour closer to the final move tightened the band of pressure across her chest.

"Two civilians just entered through the west lobby," Bobby muttered, marking the feed. "Not him though."

Cruz didn’t look away from the screen. Her voice was calm. "We stick to the pattern. He leaves between 0500 and 0630 most mornings. Today won’t be different."

"Unless he knows we’re closing in," Bobby added, glancing at her. "You think he’s spooked yet?"

"He should be," Cruz replied, her voice like steel. "We’re almost done playing shadow games."

Josie sat across the room at the secondary station, drone telemetry sounding softly in her ears. She glanced at Cruz, studying the cut of her jaw, the unwavering intensity in her eyes. Josie knew that look too well, the way Cruz masked emotion with mission control. It was the armor Cruz wore when the burden got too heavy.

Josie thought of the their night prior, of Cruz finally telling Josie about her confusion over Aaliyah.  They had spoken in depth, no more hiding between them.  It had been a turning point for them.  A breakthrough that despite all the tension and pain, was needed for them to work through.  Although Cruz’s anxiety over the mission in general remained, she was now more in control, more focused and able to work through what was needed to get the job done.  Josie wanted nothing more than to pull them both back into their cocoon as they were in last night, but the mission wouldn’t wait and it was time to take Al-Hamdan down…..soon.

Tex’s voice crackled in. "I see movement. A black sedan is pulling up. Only one occupant. I can confirm a heat signature."

Bobby zoomed in on the screen. "That’s him.......that's Al-Hamdan."

Cruz leaned forward. "Log it. Two Cups, tail him from a block back. Josie, keep the drone at three hundred feet. Don’t lose the visual."

"Copy that," Josie said, fingers already dancing over the controls. Her gaze shifted briefly to Cruz, lingering just long enough to offer silent strength. She knew Cruz felt it, even if she didn’t show it.

Joe entered the room moments later, flipping through a new intelligence report. "The intercept is confirmed. That briefcase handoff last night was with a Saudi diplomat tied to extremist banking channels. This puts Al-Hamdan at the center of a wider funding web."

Cruz's jaw clenched, her knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the desk. Her eyes narrowed, but then she exhaled and shook her head. "This has to end with a kill order, Joe," she said flatly. She turned to Joe, her voice steadier now. "Will Kaitlyn and Byron authorize it?"

Joe didn't hesitate. "It's already approved, Cruz. The intel we provided was enough to seal it. The green light's official."

Cruz nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of it. "Ok. Then we prep the strike."

Joe nodded, slow and deliberate. Her eyes narrowed slightly, tone shifting from operational to personal. "We need to talk about Aaliyah and the boy," she said carefully, watching Cruz. "I know this has been the hardest part of the whole mission. But we need clarity now."

Cruz’s jaw tensed. Joe wasn’t wrong. This had been the war waging inside her.

Joe continued, her voice even but direct. "If they get caught in the line of fire, if they cross into the radius, what do you do? Because it has to be a decision, not a reaction."

The weight of it settled like iron in Cruz’s chest. She looked at Josie, then back at Joe, her voice low but resolute. "If they cross the line, we abort. I won't authorize anything that puts them at risk." She paused, then added, "But I’ve been thinking. I have something in mind. If we can coordinate with local authorities ahead of time, quietly, just before we strike, we might be able to get Aaliyah and her son intercepted and out of the way before anything goes down. Not too early to alert Al-Hamdan, but early enough they’re nowhere near him when we move."

Joe’s eyes narrowed in thought, nodding slowly. "That could work. We’ll need to thread the needle on timing and coordination."

"Then let’s work on it," Cruz said, her voice firm now. "I need to do this. We all do."

Joe gave a small nod, accepting the answer. "Understood. It's your call. But it needed to be said. We can’t afford doubt when the moment comes."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Josie looked up, her hands still on the drone console, eyes quietly shifting between Cruz and Joe.

Cruz’s eyes flicked to the screen again. Al-Hamdan exited the sedan, briefcase in hand, shoulders loose, unhurried. The man looked like he had nothing to fear.

Cruz watched his every movement. Part of her wanted to look away, to close her eyes and forget the pieces of the past that still haunted her. But she couldn’t and she wouldn’t. This was her burden to deal with. This was her redemption.

Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t flinch. "Alright, lets get into prep mode.  We strike soon.  Let's be ready," she said, her voice strained but unwavering.

Later that evening, as the team rotated through short rest cycles and equipment checks, Cruz and Josie found a moment of privacy in the dim quiet of a storage alcove adjacent to the safehouse kitchen.

Josie leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest, watching Cruz pace slowly in front of her. Cruz's shoulders were rigid, her hands twitching at her sides, a sure sign something was stirring beneath the surface. Josie could see it all over her. She stepped forward, tilting her head gently, voice soft but insistent.

"Baby, what is it? What's on your mind?"

Cruz stopped, finally meeting her gaze. The answer sat heavy on her lips, and Josie’s breath caught as she waited, knowing instinctively that whatever came next mattered deeply.

"There’s something I’ve been thinking about," Cruz said, her voice low. "I can’t stop wondering what’s going to happen to her. To Aaliyah and her son. Once Al-Hamdan is gone."

Josie tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Cruz’s expression tightened, and her voice carried a quiet urgency. "She’ll either be forced into another marriage, or worse... once again isolated. The same pattern, all over again. I keep thinking... what if this ends for him but not for her? What if we leave her just as trapped like before? One of the things that ate me alive when I got to know her was how much control her family had over her. She cried over it, Josie. She's never tasted freedom. True freedom, to make her own decisions, live her own life. Nothing changes for her once he's dead, and I can't stomach that."

Josie stepped forward, resting her hands gently on Cruz’s hips, grounding her with the steady warmth of her touch. She saw the struggle in Cruz’s eyes, the guilt that hadn't eased since the moment Aaliyah reappeared in their lives. "You never had the power to save her then, Cruz," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "But maybe now you do. Maybe this time, you get to help her choose her own freedom.  Just... because it’s the right thing to do."  She paused to cup her face gently. "What do you want to do?"

Cruz fell into her touch. "I want to ask Joe if somehow we can help her," Cruz confessed, barely above a whisper. "To see if the Agency can offer her and son protective custody. Get them out. A new life, stateside. I can’t close this without knowing she might have a real chance of breaking free of all this."

Josie’s hands slid up to Cruz’s shoulders, her touch gentle but grounding. "I think it’s worth asking, baby. I think your heart’s been holding onto this for a long time. And maybe, maybe this is your chance to do something different, something that gives her a choice. Not out of guilt, but out of compassion. She deserves the chance to decide for herself, and if the Agency can offer that option, then I think it’s something we have to try. For her... and her son."

Cruz’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I just need to do something.  I feel like I owe her that."

"Then ask," Josie said. "I'm with you all the way."

Cruz and Josie melted into each other, their lips meeting in a soft, deliberate kiss. The tension that had hovered between them for days had finally lifted, replaced with understanding and renewed unity. They held each other close. Together now, they would face whatever came next and work together to try to help Aaliyah.

Later that night, Cruz found Joe on the balcony, overlooking the glittering lights of the city. She stood beside her silently, folding her arms, letting the moment breathe.

"I need to talk to you about Aaliyah," Cruz said, her voice soft but purposeful as she stepped closer.  Her eyes searched Joe’s. She took a breath, steadying herself not just for the conversation but for the hope she hadn’t dared hold onto until now.

Joe gave a slow nod, her eyes curious. "What is it, Cruz?"

"When this all ends, when we take him out... she’s going to be vulnerable.....again," Cruz said, the weight heavy in her chest. "I know we can’t save everyone, Joe. And I know it isn't our job to protect any bystanders.  But I’m asking....can we help her? Can the Agency offer protection for her and her son? Give her a real chance at a life."

Joe turned toward her, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "You mean make her a ghost."

Cruz shook her head. "No. I don’t think she should be running or hiding anymore.  But, once he's dead, she goes back to the same life.  Controlled by others....another marriage not of her choosing, maybe even death.  Who knows.  Her life has never been her own.  I know many people suffer through the same thing but if there was a chance for her and her son to be freed, I'd like to try to give her that.  She has every right to live her life as she wants it. Somewhere safe. Where her son can grow up without fear, without being used as leverage."

Joe exhaled slowly, the burden of her years in this job etched into every line on her face. "It’s not an easy ask, Cruz. The bureaucracy, the red tape, the interagency clearance... normally, protection or immunity is only granted when someone offers something in return. We don’t offer asylum, you know that. But she’s helped us, inadvertently and unknowingly. And you’re right, she could end up right back in the same cycle. Another marriage with the same ties, the same control. We don't owe her anything but perhaps we can try do something for her and her son. I can’t promise you it will happen, but... I’ll fight for it. I’ll pull every string I can.......for you...I'll do it."

Cruz looked down, her voice barely audible. "That's all I'm asking, that we at least try.......thank you. That means more than I can say."

Joe studied her. "This isn’t just about her, is it?"

Cruz’s throat tightened. She looked away, the city lights blurring. "No. I couldn't help her before.  I know it was never my job to help her.  But I also never planned to fall in love in with her either.  She will always mean something to me and I can't sit by and not try to help her now.  Even though its the same situation and its not any of our responsibility to help.  I failed her once. Maybe this is my shot at fixing even a piece of that."

Joe placed a steady hand on her shoulder, grounding her. "Then we’ll try. Ok?"

Cruz felt something in her chest loosen, not entirely, but enough to breathe deeper. Enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something redemptive waiting at the other side of this mission.

Inside, Bobby was methodically cleaning her rifle, spreading pieces across a microfiber cloth with practiced grace. Her expression was unreadable, but the precision in her movements told the story, they were close now. Her brow creased slightly as she glanced up, hearing the soft murmur of Cruz and Josie’s voices from the rooftop. Something in her chest tugged, respect, maybe, or just that quiet ache of knowing the end was near.

In another corner, Randy and Two Cups exchanged hushed calculations over signal strength and line-of-sight angles, tension rippling quietly beneath their words. Two Cups cracked a dry joke to ease the tightness in the room, and Randy rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Tucker, silent but steady, leaned against the far wall, thumbing through the latest mission packet. He wasn’t a man of many words, but his readiness was unquestioned.

Josie and Cruz stood quietly on the balcony, arms wrapped around each other as they gazed out over the city lights of Istanbul. Listening to the quiet sound of the street below..

The mission had reached its final phase, its culmination. They didn’t speak, because they didn’t need to. Every breath they shared, every touch between them was a silent acknowledgment of what was coming. The stakes were impossibly high and they were both ready to face it fully.

Across the city, Tariq Al-Hamdan stepped into his high-rise apartment, the hush of luxury surrounding him as he discarded his suit jacket and loosened his collar. After a quiet dinner, he slid open the glass door to the balcony and stepped outside. The night air was cool, the city lights sprawling before him like a kingdom unaware it was about to lose its king.

He didn’t know the line in the sand had already been drawn.

Chapter Text

The air inside the safehouse was still and sharp, just before dawn. Everyone moved with the silent efficiency of ritual. Weapons were checked, vests tightened, eyes focused. The floor buzzed faintly beneath the boots of the QRF as Cruz stepped into the center of the room, tablet in hand.  She didn’t need to raise her voice.

The day had come.....Al-Hamdan would be taken out today.

"We hit at 0630 local," she said, scanning the room. "Tex and Two Cups will move to secondary cover points on the northeast and southwest exits. Randy and Tucker will support rooftop exfil. Bobby will have the primary shot."

Bobby gave a subtle nod, fingers tightening once on the grip of her rifle. Her jaw was tight with focus.

Joe stood off to the side, arms crossed. She didn’t interrupt. Cruz was in full command.

"Al-Hamdan spent the night at the high-rise," Cruz continued.  "Drone surveillance confirms the building is clear of non-combatants, including Aaliyah and her son."

The words came out sharper than intended. Cruz cleared her throat and added, "Confirmed by three independent scans overnight."

Joe hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to Cruz.  She knew Aaliyah and the boy were not in the high rise and had arranged for local police to pick up them up during the middle of the night as Al-Hamdan was not with them.  It was a window of opportunity they were able to seize flawlessly.

This moment had been hanging between them since that late-night conversation, one Cruz hadn't pressed, but hadn't let go of either. Joe remembered the way Cruz had quietly asked if there was any hope for Aaliyah and her son after Al-Hamdan was eliminated. Her voice had trembled in that rare way it did when she cared too deeply. Joe had made no promises, only said she would try. But Cruz had known, even then, that the Agency rarely offered sanctuary, especially not for women like Aaliyah....who were used, discarded, and forgotten.

But now......Joe had came through.

"The Agency has begun relocation efforts," she said, eyes steady on Cruz. "Aaliyah and her son were intercepted during the night by local authorities as planned. They’re now in Agency custody and she has agreed to protective relocation. She is officially under U.S. federal protection and has been moved to a secure location in country for now until we complete the mission."

Cruz literally placed her hands to her face and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Her shoulders lowered as if a hundred pounds had just been lifted.

Josie glanced at Cruz and caught the shift in her jaw, the faintest trace of a smile, small and quiet but real. The first real one she’d seen from her since the mission began. That relentless tension that had gripped Cruz for weeks had finally cracked, giving way to something softer and lighter. It was all right there, raw and unguarded on her face. Josie’s chest ached at the sight, the depth of it cutting through her. She knew exactly what this moment meant to Cruz, for Cruz’s sense of redemption, and for the hope they both carried for the future. Their eyes locked, and they shared a soft, private smile, one that said everything neither of them needed to say in the open.

Joe's gaze softened slightly as she continued, "She will have a new life. She and her son are safe now. She’ll never be touched again, not by him, not by anyone like him." She looked directly at Cruz as she spoke, her voice rich with conviction and quiet pride. A slow smile crossed her face, not the political one she always wore, but something deeply human. It gave her a measure of peace to have helped someone who truly deserved it. This wasn’t just a win for the mission. This was the kind of right that didn’t come often enough in their line of work, and Joe knew it in her bones.

Cruz gave a tight nod, her eyes locking with Joe’s for a brief but meaningful second, a silent, heartfelt thank you. Her throat tightened as she swallowed the lump that had formed. But instead of emotion, her voice emerged low and steady.

"Then it’s time," she said, her jaw set with quiet resolve. 

There was no applause or rallying cry. Just a collective breath as the team moved. Cruz lingered a second longer, her eyes on the tablet. Her finger hovered, almost tracing the map overlay where the high-rise stood. She could see all the layers of it.........past, present, closure.

Then she looked up. "Everyone stay very sharp. Let’s fucking do this."

They moved silently through the city.

By the time the sun peaked through the horizon, the team was already in place. The black surveillance van parked three blocks from the target building pulsed with low comms chatter. Josie sat inside, eyes on her monitors, heart ticking a beat behind the drone feed. She swallowed, feeling the tension crawl up her spine.

This was it.

"Tex and Two Cups are in position," she said into her mic. "No civilian movement near the southeast perimeter."

"Copy," Bobby replied, her voice crisp from the rooftop. She adjusted her scope, her sights trained on the balcony Al-Hamdan had used every morning for the past three weeks.

Cruz stood just behind her, half-shadowed. She said nothing. Just waited. Her eyes scanned the horizon, watching as Istanbul stirred awake. Her mind moved through every possible variable. Every what-if. But deep down, she knew it was time. The moment to take out a a very dangerous terrorist was among them.

Josie shifted in her seat, glancing up at the rooftop camera feed where she could see Cruz’s silhouette behind Bobby. The curve of her shoulders looked heavier today. But she was steady and strong. The woman she loved was standing on the edge of her past, and Josie could only watch her cross it.

High above the city, Al-Hamdan stepped onto the balcony of his high-rise apartment. The early morning haze across the skyline as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, holding a sleek black briefcase loosely in one hand. He paused at the railing, surveying the city below as if it all belonged to him. The live feed streamed directly onto the screens inside the van where Josie watched, her eyes fixed on every calculated move.

"Visual on the target," Tex confirmed. "Al-Hamdan on the balcony, against the railing.  He is facing in your direction Bobby.  He's carrying a briefcase"

Randy’s voice broke in. "No one is behind him. We’re clear."

"Confirming Al-Hamdan is on the balcony," Josie reported. Her hand hovered over the drone controls. "We’ve got full thermal."

Bobby adjusted her stance, eye pressed to the scope as she saw the target clearly and had her rifle pointed right at his chest. The breath she drew was steady and mechanical. She knew her job. She knew what to do.

"Shot is clean," she said crisply.

Cruz inhaled.

In her mind, it was never just a man she was ordering to kill. It was the last tie to a mission that had cost her everything. Zara. Aaliyah. Mallorca. The pieces of her that had never fully come home. And it was one more man who had spent his life bankrolling terror, manipulating and destroying in the name of fanaticism. Ending him meant freedom, for the people he would never touch again, and most of all, for Aaliyah and her son. Aaliyah, who had endured so much at the hands of powerful men obsessed with violence. This was how her life could finally be her own. This was the moment where all those names would stop defining Cruz.

This was the cut.

Her voice came, quiet but absolute. "Take it."

The crack of the suppressed shot echoed across the comms....sharp and final.

Al-Hamdan dropped to the ground, the briefcase sliding from his hand as he crumpled.

"Target down," Bobby confirmed. "Repeat, target down."

Josie, monitoring the live drone feed from the van, confirmed visual contact. The screen displayed Al-Hamdan's lifeless form slumped on the balcony of the high-rise, his body crumpled near the railing. "Confirmed...target is down," she said into her comms, her voice steady despite the surge of adrenaline.

A moment of silence followed. Cruz closed her eyes for just a second, let the breath escape from her lungs.

Then Cruz’s voice, came calm and even. "Exfil now."

The exfil was tight and silent. Within minutes, the team had cleared the perimeter, sliding back through alleys and unmarked streets into the cover of Istanbul’s morning bustle.

Back at the safehouse, no one spoke for several moments. The tension had broken, but the dust of what they’d done hadn’t yet settled. The silence wasn’t just exhaustion, it was relief. A quiet acknowledgment of the emotional toll they all carried.

Tex pulled off his vest and slumped into a chair, rubbing the back of his neck with both hands. His expression was blank, but the slow exhale gave him away. Two Cups sank into the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped like a man who hadn’t yet realized it was over. Randy leaned against the wall, arms folded, face unreadable but eyes distant. Tucker sat at the small table near the kitchenette, staring down at a half-full bottle of water, slowly twisting the cap off and on like his mind couldn’t stop turning. Bobby sat cross-legged near the weapons case, disassembling her rifle with movements that were precise, even meditative.

Josie stood near the far window, her arms crossed, eyes cast outward but unfocused. She watched the city, blinking back the lingering adrenaline. Her gaze kept flicking toward Cruz.

Cruz and Joe were already on comms with Washington, where the Situation Room monitored every step of the operation in real time.  They provided their full briefing, detailing the mission sequence, target elimination, and current team status. The final updates were transmitted securely, Cruz’s voice steady as she confirmed the team was back at the safehouse, the objective complete, and all operatives accounted for.

As Joe and Cruz stepped out of the comms room, the tension still clinging to them, Joe reached into her jacket pocket and quietly handed Cruz a secure tablet.

"This is her new identity," she said, her voice more grounded now. "They're still at the secure location for tonight. The Agency is arranging transport tomorrow to the states."

Cruz took the tablet with both hands. Without a word, she stepped away and moved to a quieter corner of the safehouse, a small alcove with just a bench and a dim reading lamp. She sank onto the bench slowly, the tablet resting on her knees. Then, with a breath drawn long and slow, she opened the file.

She saw her new name. Her new location. Her son's new name, age three.

She stared at it longer than she meant to. Her breath caught halfway in her chest. She no longer felt grief....she felt relief.

Then, quietly, her thumb hovered over the screen before she pressed DELETE. The confirmation pinged, quiet and absolute. The past couldn’t hurt them anymore. 

Joe walked over to her.  Josie also walked in after Cruz deleted the message.

Joe lingered, watching her. "You did right by her. She will have a new lease on life now."

Cruz nodded once but said nothing. Her throat was too tight. Instead, she turned to Josie, whose eyes had never left her.

Without a word, Josie walked over. They didn’t speak. Cruz’s hand found Josie’s, fingers curling tight.

Together, they both breathed.

That night, Cruz sat on the edge of the bed in their room, elbows on her knees. Her hands were clasped so tight her knuckles were white. Her chest rose and fell with quiet, controlled breaths.

Josie emerged from the bathroom after her shower. She paused in the doorway, watching her wife for a moment. Then she walked over and knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand over Cruz’s clenched fingers.

"It's over, baby." she said, voice hushed, almost afraid to believe the answer.

Cruz turned toward her slowly. Her eyes were rimmed red, but dry. She studied Josie’s face for a long moment, rooting herself in the one truth she could still hold onto. Then her mouth curved, faintly.

"Yeah....it's over."

They climbed into bed and drew their arms into each other.

Josie held her tight, running her fingers slowly through Cruz’s hair, her touch grounding them both. Cruz nestled into her neck, breathing in her scent, the familiar comfort of home. She kissed her skin softly, needing the contact, the quiet reassurance that they were here, together.

Josie had been turning a thought over in her mind all day, ever since they got word that Aaliyah and her son were safe. It had stayed with her, needling at the edges of her thoughts, something she couldn't quite let go of. As she lay there beside Cruz, running her fingers slowly through her hair, she felt the timing settle in her bones.

“I think you should see her,” Josie whispered suddenly, her voice gentle against the dark.

Cruz didn’t move, but her breath caught again, sharp and sudden, as if Josie’s words had cracked open a door she hadn’t dared approach. 

Josie pulled back slightly so she could look into her wife’s eyes. “I think you should ask Joe if you can talk to Aaliyah before she’s transported.”

Cruz blinked, surprised. Her eyes lingered on Josie’s, trying to read the intention behind the suggestion. “Why?” she asked, her voice low and tentative.

“Because,” Josie said, cupping Cruz’s cheek, her thumb brushing softly over her skin, “you’ve carried this guilt, this pain, for too long. You said it yourself. That you felt you betrayed her. That completing the mission crushed you because it crushed her. That she never knew who you really were. Baby, even when we met, those walls of yours, they were built in part because of what you endured, even if I didn't know why then. We had to work through so much of it together. And I saw how deeply something haunted you. You’ve helped her now. You made it possible for her and her son to have a life of their own. A real chance at freedom. But you need this last step.  Tell her the truth. She might not forgive you, and you shouldn’t expect her to. But if you do this, if you face her with honesty, then maybe you can finally forgive yourself. Maybe she needs it too. Deep down. Maybe she’s waited for it, without even knowing it.”

Cruz stared at her, eyes glimmering with both surprise and emotion. Her voice came softer now. “You’d be ok with that? With me seeing her... after everything?”

Josie’s gaze didn’t waver. She nodded slowly, deliberately. “Yes. I didn’t say anything at first because I wanted you to have space to feel everything. But I’ve seen it in your eyes... what’s still left. The part that still needs see this through.”

She gently took Cruz’s face in her hands, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. “You deserve to let that go. I want you to talk to her, if Joe can make it happen. I want you to tell her your truth, not for her forgiveness, not because you owe her something now, but because you owe it to yourself to face the hardest part of your past head-on.”

Cruz blinked, overwhelmed. “You think she’d listen?”

“I do,” Josie said softly. “Because deep down, maybe she’s been waiting for it too. Even if she never knew it.”

Cruz let out a breath, the weight of Josie’s faith supporting her.  "I love you so much,” she whispered, voice cracking.

“I know,” Josie replied, leaning in to press her forehead to Cruz’s. "I love you too......so go. Ask Joe. Get the closure you need.”

Cruz nodded slowly, her throat tight. "Ok," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll talk to Joe."

She leaned in and kissed Josie deeply, an aching, grateful kiss, holding it for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to pour all the love she felt into that single gesture. When she finally pulled back, her hands came up to cradle Josie’s face, her thumbs brushing gently beneath her eyes.

She kissed Josie’s hands next, slowly, one by one, eyes never leaving hers. Pure love radiated from her in waves, fierce, protective and humbled.

"You amaze me every day," she added. "I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you, but I’m never letting you go."

Josie smiled through the shimmer of emotion in her eyes, pulling Cruz back into her arms as they lay together, surrounded by the softness of the moment and the strength of what they had together.

Their fingers intertwined and held fast, bodies pressed close. The love between them, quiet and unwavering, was stronger than anything that had come before.

And in the stillness, Cruz finally let herself believe she might truly leave the ghosts of her past behind.

And for the first time since it all began, Cruz let herself feel it.

That peace was not only possible.

It was within reach.

Chapter Text

The safehouse was quiet the next day in the early morning. In their shared bedroom, Cruz stood by the dresser, buttoning her crisp shirt and sliding into jeans. She moved with slow, deliberate motions, the gravity of the day already pressing against her chest.

The night before, Josie and Cruz had quietly agreed that Cruz would visit Aaliyah at the secured location before her transfer. It was a conversation marked by understanding and trust.  Josie saw how much this meant to Cruz, how much she would need it.

Joe managed to arrange the visit, under strict time and security protocols.

Cruz was preparing to leave, her heart heavy but determined. A knot of emotion tightened in her chest: anxiety, apprehension, and somewhere buried within, a flicker of quiet hope. She couldn’t untangle the mess of feelings, and she didn’t try. Speaking to Aaliyah would be difficult. There was unfinished truth between them, and today, that truth would finally be faced.

She reached for her jacket, shrugging it on just as the bathroom door opened. Josie stepped into the room, eyes instantly finding Cruz. 

Josie crossed the room, slipping her arms around Cruz's neck. She kissed her softly, gently, lingering in the quiet that passed between them. Cruz held her waist, softly smiling and letting herself lean her into her warmth, steadying herself in the woman she loved.

She slowly pulled back, she searched her wife’s eyes. Cruz’s voice dropped, raw and low. “Are you sure you are ok with me going to see her?”

Josie nodded and exhaled a shaky breath. “Yes. I’ve thought a lot about it. You need this. We both do.” She paused, her voice steady but warm. “It's time."

Her fingers traced lightly over Cruz’s jaw, knowing deep down this was the right thing to do. "It’ll give you closure. Go and talk to her. Tell her everything you’ve been holding in. This is your moment to do it. Don’t waste the chance."

Cruz swallowed hard, emotion pushing at the edge of her control. "And then I come back to you." She leaned in, brushing a kiss against the corner of her mouth, feeling Josie’s warmth seep into her.

Josie's voice came out gentle but firm. "Then you come back to me, baby." Her heart swelled with love. 

They kissed again, this time slower and deeper. Cruz’s hands tightened around Josie’s back, memorizing the feel of her in that moment.

When she finally stepped away, Cruz moved to the bedroom door. Her hand was on the knob when she turned back.

Josie stood in the middle of the room, arms folded over her chest, her expression steady but soft.

"I love you," Cruz said, her voice low.

"I love you too," Josie replied, her smile quiet, full of trust.

Cruz opened the door and stepped out, the latch clicking gently behind her.

Josie let out a slow breath and closed her eyes.  She had spent the night wrestling with what this meeting truly meant, not just for Cruz, but for both of them. She knew deep in her heart this was what Cruz needed. It wasn’t easy, but Josie had accepted that healing sometimes required letting go. This meeting wasn’t about reliving the past; it was about releasing it.

A final step forward, so there would be no ghosts left between them.

The sun had barely risen when the car pulled up to the Agency secured site. It wasn’t a black site or a bunker, just a modest house on the outskirts of Ankara, where Aaliyah and her son were being held temporarily until their relocation to the United States, entering into the Witness Protection program.

The world didn’t know this house existed, and by sunset, it would be like they’d never been there at all.

Joe stood near the car as Cruz approached, her expression tight with understanding. "You’ve got fifteen minutes. Say what you need to say. They both leave soon."

Cruz nodded without a word. She didn’t trust her voice yet.

Cruz walked inside the house. Her hands were shaking, her pulse strong beneath her skin. She was about to come face-to-face with the woman she had once loved, for the first time in four years. She didn’t know what to expect.

She reached the door, her fingers hovering just above the knob. A breath in, a breath out. And then she opened it.

Aaliyah was inside, standing near the window with the soft light outlining her profile. Her back was turned, arms wrapped loosely around herself, as if holding on to something invisible.  Her son was in the adjoining room, playing with toys that were brought in for him.

As the door clicked, Aaliyah turned...and froze.

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened slightly, just enough for a name to slip out like it had been caught in her throat for years.

"Zara?"

The name hung in the air between them.

Cruz didn’t respond right away. She just stared. And it hit her like a wave....Aaliyah was in front of her.  Older now, yes. Her features more weathered, more guarded. But still her. The same soft eyes, the same quiet strength. Time had shaped her, but she was unmistakably the woman Cruz had once risked everything to love.

They just looked at each other. Neither moved at first. The silence stretched between them, swollen with years of pain and absence.

Aaliyah was the first to step forward, not in anger, but with measured purpose. Her voice didn’t shake. “Are you a part of all this?”

Cruz nodded. “Yes. I was involved.”

Aaliyah’s gaze sharpened slightly, not harsh but searching. “I’m trying to understand. What are you doing here, Zara?”

The name twisted in Cruz’s chest.

Cruz drew in a long breath, steadying herself before she began.

"I was brought in.  I can’t go into too many details, but I knew what your husband was doing. We were sent to dismantle his channels, his funding, and everything tied to the groups he was empowering." She paused, her voice catching slightly. "We were brought in to stop him."

Cruz could see the bewilderment in Aaliyah's eyes, her mind spinning trying to understand how she, Zara....Cruz could be in front of her now.  Cruz took one step closer.

“My name… my name is Cruz.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she paused, searching for the right words, knowing she would just need to dive in. “When we first met… I was undercover.”

She stopped, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to find her center. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she gathered herself.

She swallowed, her eyes meeting Aaliyah’s. “I was sent to get close to your father. That was my assignment.”

She hesitated again, her chest tightening. “It wasn’t personal....not at first.”

Aaliyah’s eyes didn’t flinch. “So I was just your pawn?”

Cruz stepped closer, emotion thickening her voice. “No......no, you weren’t. I swear to you, you weren’t. At the beginning, it was about the mission. But then I got to know you. And I didn’t expect… I didn’t expect you to matter to me. But eventually, you did." 

Cruz paused again and exhaled deeply. "I fell in love with you, Aaliyah. That part was never a lie. It was the only thing that was real.”

Aaliyah’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached forward and took Cruz’s hands in hers. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I always wondered. I told myself not to believe it. That it was all some perfect illusion. But then I’d remember the way you looked at me. The way you held me. And I knew. Even if everything else was a lie… that part wasn’t.” She stopped to gather herself.  "I loved you too......that was the first time I ever loved anyone."

Aaliyah stepped closer and lowered her voice. “And when you left… when you vanished… I literally thought I'd imagined it all."

Cruz's voice trembled. “You didn’t imagine it. Every minute we spent together, it changed me. I had never let someone in like that. And I never expected to. I was trained not to.”

They both stood silent for a moment, breathing in the weight of everything between them.

Aaliyah nodded slowly, her tears falling now, quiet and slow. “After my father, after Ehsan… I didn’t know what to believe. But I always held onto the idea that you… the love we shared.  The love.....was real. That you were real to me.”

“It was,” Cruz whispered. “My name wasn't. But me. I was real when I was with you.”

They stood there, hand in hand, in that fragile stillness that comes when something breaks and mends at the same time.

Aaliyah gave her a long look. “You showed me what it was like to be seen. I’ll never forget that.”

Cruz squeezed her hands. “And you showed me that I was capable of giving love.”

Cruz’s throat burned. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I knew I’d break your heart, and I broke mine too. Disappearing like that, knowing I couldn’t explain… I held it inside me for years. I’ve carried it every single day. I am so sorry, Aaliyah. You didn’t deserve that.”

She looked back at Cruz, her expression heavy with truth. “Deep down, I know now what my father did. I know what Ehsan was involved in. Even Tariq… despite him being decent to me and our son, I knew what he was part of. I didn’t have a choice. I was forced into the marriage in the same way I would have been with Ehsan. I never hated you. I just… didn’t know what happened. I always suspected something like this, but I was never sure.”

Her voice wavered, though her eyes stayed locked with Cruz’s. “Now I know.  I understand the purpose you and the others had and why it needed to be done. I also know what we shared… we needed that. For that time.  It was never meant to last. It was a great love, but never meant to be forever. We both know that.”

Cruz nodded, holding in her tears.  "I know Aaliyah."  Cruz swallowed the lump in her throat. "I always knew that despite the pain it caused.”

Aaliyah looked down at Cruz's hand, the one holding hers.  She turned her hand over, noticing the ring.

Aaliyah’s voice was barely a breath. “Are you happy now?”

Cruz nodded gently, noticing Aaliyah saw her wedding band . “Yes. I’m married.”

Aaliyah smiled, one hand rising to wipe her own cheek. “She’s very lucky, Cruz.” 

It was the first she'd ever said her name to her.

“I’m the lucky one,” Cruz replied, and the moment she said it, Josie’s face filled her heart. The warmth. The safety. The life they’d built.

They both smiled at each other, their hands still joined in the quiet space between them.

Aaliyah’s voice broke as she looked back into Cruz’s eyes, her tone trembling but certain. “I forgive you.” She glanced at her son, sitting quietly near the corner of the room, then back again. “I know you can’t say it but I realize it now. You’re the reason I have this chance. You’re the reason we’re free. I don’t know how to thank you for that. What you did… it gave me a second chance at life. For him, too.”

Cruz squeezed her hand, emotions boiling inside her.

Joe knocked gently and peaked in to signify the visit had to end.

Cruz turned her head, then looked back to Aaliyah.

She sighed.  "I have to go now." She cleared her throat. "I know you will find your happiness.  For you and your son.  Live your life as you want it now." She stopped as lump in her throat kept her from saying more.

Aaliyah nodded. "I will.  I plan to finally do just that."  She smiled sweetly.

Cruz's voice trembling. “I’ll always remember you."

“And I’ll remember you.”  Aaliyah said through one last tear.

Cruz stepped back. Her hand let go slowly. She walked to the door, turned, and whispered, “Goodbye, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah blinked away another tear. “Goodbye, Cruz.”

Cruz stepped through the door, the soft click of it closing behind her marking not just the end of the visit, but the closing of a long, painful chapter in her life.

She didn’t look back.  And for a moment, Cruz leaned against it. Her eyes burned. But her chest, her chest felt suddenly felt lighter.

Aaliyah was free now.

And maybe, just maybe, she was too.

By the time Cruz reached the car, her hands trembled. She slid into the back seat and closed the door behind her, the silence settling around her. The engine sounded gently beneath her feet, grounding her in the present even as her mind still lingered in that room. Her chest ached, but it was a clean ache now, a wound that had finally been acknowledged.

The visit had been emotionally charged, far more than she’d prepared for. But she was glad she’d gone. Aaliyah seemed like she had needed it too, maybe just as much as she had. Cruz sat back against the seat and exhaled, her eyes misting again, not from guilt this time, but from release. She didn’t know if she’d ever be the same after that meeting, but she also knew she wouldn’t be haunted anymore.

Still, she hadn’t let herself fall apart.....not yet.

She tapped the partition, asking the driver to take her back to the house, urgency lacing her voice. She couldn’t wait a minute longer. All she wanted was to be with her wife.

With Josie. 

She pulled out her phone and stared at the screen for a moment, then typed slowly, deliberately:

On my way back. I love you, baby. 

Josie was in the bedroom, curled up in the chair by the window, a book resting in her hands. She looked up the moment she heard the front door open. Her heart skipped.

She closed the book gently and set it down on the nightstand, rising to her feet just as Cruz appeared in the doorway.

Their eyes locked.

Josie stood still as Cruz stepped inside slowly, like she wasn’t quite sure if she was ready to cross the final threshold of the day. But the moment their eyes met, all doubt melted away.

Josie didn’t ask questions. 

She just walked towards her wife.

Cruz hesitated for half a breath, then...... the dam broke.

She literally crashed into Josie and collapsed against her, her arms clinging desperately as if Josie were the only thing keeping her upright. The sobs came fast and deep, wrenching from her chest in a way Cruz hadn’t allowed in years. They weren’t quiet tears. They were raw and guttural, shaking her entire body as all the guilt, all the pain, and all the suppressed weight of the past surged to the surface.

Josie held her tightly, one hand pressing against Cruz’s back, one hand cradling the back of her head. She whispered nothing. She just held her wife, solid, unwavering, as Cruz let it all out.

Cruz wept for what had been, for what was lost, and for what she had finally let go of. Her knees buckled, and Josie gently guided her to the floor, never loosening her hold.

Time stood still for both of them.  Cruz just wept and wept.  She only knew that the anguish was no longer inside her.  It was gone. Her conversation with Aaliyah had washed away the ghosts that haunted her. And now, being here, in Josie’s arms, with nothing left to hide or bury....was like breathing air for the first time.

When they finally moved to the bed, it was wordless. Cruz undressed slowly, exhausted, emotionally bare. Josie helped her into bed, pulled the blankets over them, and curled around her from behind.

The sheets were tangled around their legs. The room was dark except for the soft light spilling in from the hallway. Their fingers intertwined beneath the covers.

Cruz turned her head slightly and whispered, voice still thick from tears, "She’s free now."

Josie leaned forward, pressing her lips gently to Cruz’s shoulder. Her voice was soft but sure. "And so are you, baby."

Cruz turned to face her, holding her as tight as she could, unable to let her go. She buried her face in Josie’s neck, breathing her in, home, comfort, love. Her arms were iron around Josie, and Josie did the same, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks as she clung to the woman she loved more than life itself.

They fell asleep, wrapped in their cocoon of warmth, bound by the kind of love that they knew could survive anything.....it had been proven.

Nothing else mattered now.

Chapter Text

The team had flown home aboard a Gulfstream.  The quiet sound of the engines creating a soft undercurrent to the end of a long operation. The sky outside was clear, endless blue stretching over the clouds, but inside the cabin, the air carried the weight of finality, of something important drawing to a close.

The QRF team had spread out along the cabin, each claiming a seat or stretch of aisle as they settled into a rare moment of calm. Tucker had dozed off near the rear, his arms crossed over his chest. Bobby sat nearby with a travel mug in hand, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. Tex and Two Cups sat at the fold-out table, playing cards and arguing over the rules, while Randy leaned against the window, earbuds in and a peaceful look on his face.

Near the front of the plane, removed just slightly from the casual energy of the team, Cruz and Joe sat across from each other at a small table. Between them lay a laptop and a few last reports. They were walking through the mission details and outcomes, including Al-Hamdan's elimination and Aaliyah and her son’s departure into the Witness Protection Program.

Once the reports were closed, Cruz sat in silence for a moment, her eyes drifting toward the grain of the tabletop. "Do you think you ever really left the job, Joe?" she asked quietly.

Joe leaned back in her seat, arms crossing loosely. She exhaled before answering. "I thought I did. At first. I was able to be there more for my family. I caught more birthdays. More breakfasts. But the big missions? I kept finding my way back. Not because you needed me, hell, Cruz, you never needed me, but because I needed to still feel connected. Like I still had something to offer."

Cruz studied her, nodding slowly.

Joe shrugged. "I wasn’t just asked. I volunteered. And now, looking at it clearly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully step away."

She narrowed her eyes curiously, studying Cruz. "Why do you ask?"

Cruz sat with the question for a moment, her thumb absently grazing the edge of the tabletop. "When you asked me to take over, I didn’t hesitate. I was all in. I thought that was the natural next step. And maybe it was. But… I think I knew something was shifting, even back then."  She paused for a moment and chuckled. "When you dragged me in to shadow Josie that first time, kicking and screaming, I had no idea what was coming. But I felt it. Something was about to change."

She looked at Joe with a softer expression. "And it did. You introduced me to the love of my life, Joe. Something I’ll never be able to repay you for… even if you had no idea what you were setting into motion."

Joe chuckled, her smile tinted with emotion. "It was one hell of a mission pairing. Never would’ve guessed it’d lead here."

Cruz looked over her shoulder. In the back of the plane, Josie sat curled up with a book, a soft smile on her lips as she read, utterly at peace.

"We’ve built a life together. And I keep asking myself… is this still the life I want? This job… the sacrifice. It takes so much. I’ve always believed I was built for it, but now? After Toure, Vargas, Al-Hamdan… and his connection to Aaliyah… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not that person anymore."

Joe didn’t speak, letting her continue.

"I used to think nothing else mattered but the job. That nothing else made sense. But now? I don’t know. The fire’s different. Not out… just not where it used to be."

She nodded back toward Josie. "What mattered most to me back then? It’s not the priority anymore........She is."

Joe let the words sink in, already sensing what Cruz might be trying to say.

"Cruz, what are you saying?" Joe asked seriously.

Cruz smiled gently, her tone warm and resolute, but her eyes carried a deeper current, quiet conviction mixed with emotion. "You’ll know soon enough," she said.  She lingered just a moment longer, locking eyes with Joe to let the meaning settle between them.

She rose from her seat, giving Joe one last glance of quiet gratitude. As she walked toward the back of the plane, Josie looked up and smiled, the smile that made everything inside Cruz melt.

Cruz sat down beside her, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles.

Josie studied her, seeing something in her wife’s eyes. Cruz reached up, gently brushed her cheek.

Cruz took a moment, her gaze lingering on Josie’s eyes, searching them. Her fingers brushed Josie’s cheek, and her voice dropped lower, tender but sure. “I’ve been thinking about what we promised each other.  We said we wouldn't make this decision alone; it would be together.  But I want you to know now......”

She exhaled softly, then smiled. “I’m ready, baby,” she whispered.

Josie blinked, confusion flashing for a moment before her expression shifted into complete understanding, knowing exactly to what she was referring to. She lifted her hand, touched Cruz’s lips, and leaned in for a soft kiss.

"Ok," Josie said quietly, her voice steady and full of certainty. "I’m ready too." There was no hesitation in her tone, no flicker of doubt in her eyes. She had known this moment would come.

They leaned into each other, fingers entwined, foreheads resting together as the Gulfstream flew steady through the clouds as they came closer to home.

A few days later, Cruz and Josie pulled into the parking lot of CIA headquarters in Langley. The morning was crisp, the air clear, and both women were dressed sharply in their operative attire, black slacks, fitted blazers, and polished boots. They sat quietly for a moment in the car before stepping out, a shared finality hanging in the air.

Before walking toward the entrance, they paused. Josie reached for Cruz’s hand and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze. Cruz squeezed back, locking eyes with her wife. No words were needed.

With quiet resolve, they crossed the lot and entered the building, striding confidently through the familiar corridors that had once shaped the rhythm of their lives. The walls whispered with memories, briefings, missions, tense returns, long nights. And yet, every step forward was lighter than the last.

They were escorted by Kaitlyn's aide to her office and let in. Joe stood in the corner of the room, arms folded but relaxed. Kaitlyn sat behind her desk, arms crossed as she looked up. She motioned for Cruz and Josie to sit.

Once seated, Kaitlyn’s gaze softened slightly. “I thought you two would be off somewhere recovering from the last mission,” she said, eyeing them both carefully. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

She exhaled, watching as Cruz and Josie exchanged a look. Then, silently, they handed her the envelopes they had brought.

Kaitlyn took them, her eyes narrowing slightly. She studied the envelopes for a moment before opening them, carefully reading the contents. Once finished, she looked up at Joe, who gave her a knowing nod and a soft smile, clearly already aware of what was inside.

Kaitlyn sighed as she set the papers down. “Resignation letters,” she said aloud, her voice almost reflective. She looked back at them again, this time with curiosity rather than surprise.

“I respect your decisions,” she continued. “And to be honest, I’m not entirely surprised. But if I may ask… why now?”

Cruz and Josie shared another glance. Josie was the one who spoke, her voice steady and full of quiet resolve.

“The work we’ve done here, the missions, the lives impacted....it will always matter to me,” Josie said. “I’ve served with pride, both in the Army and at the Agency. But there comes a moment when you just know. You feel it. It’s time to let it go.”

She turned to Cruz, her expression soft. “And we’re ready to let it go together.”

Cruz nodded and turned back to Kaitlyn. “This work shaped who we are. It mattered deeply, and always will. But we want more now. A different kind of life. One not defined by danger or sacrifice. We’ve given so much to this, it’s time to give something back to each other.”

She paused, her voice quieter. “It might not make perfect sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to us.”

Kaitlyn nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, believe me. Candidly... I’m envious. This life can strip you of so much. I think Joe and I are just lifers. Not to say anyone else should be, but we all know when it’s time. I applaud you both for knowing what you want."

She sighed. “You will be missed. Although your tenure was short, you both made an indelible mark on this program over the past few years. That kind of impact... it’s not easy to replace. I want to personally thank you for your contributions.”

She looked at them both meaningfully. “If we ever need your insight on future missions, I hope we can call on you.”

Cruz nodded without hesitation. “If you ever call, Kaitlyn, we will answer.”

Josie echoed her with a quiet, firm nod. The program would always be a part of them, etched into their history even as they stepped away.

They stood, and Joe moved in to greet them both. “I’m proud of you,” she said, her voice full of emotion. “Go live your lives. You’ve earned it.”

Then she turned directly to Cruz. Her eyes shimmered, glassy though she tried to blink it back.

The attachment she held for Cruz had always been more than professional....it had been deeply personal.

“Be happy, Cruz. You deserve it.”

Cruz swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She’d been through so much with Joe. Letting go was harder than she expected. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice rough with emotion, as she shook Joe’s hand.

She turned to Josie, who was equally misty-eyed. Without hesitation, they laced their fingers together, the first time they had done so in front of Joe and Kaitlyn.

Hand in hand, they walked out of Kaitlyn’s office together. Down the corridors they had walked so many times as operatives, this time as partners, not just in work, but in life.

As they pushed through the front doors, a soft breeze met them. Cool, refreshing, and liberating.

They looked at each other, smiled, and laughed. It was over.

They were free.

And ready to take on whatever life had in store for them...together.

The team had gathered in their backyard to enjoy the evening. Lights strung through the trees glowed softly. Laughter spilled from the corners of the yard as Randy flipped burgers, Two Cups and Tex argued over which IPA reigned supreme, and Bobby and Tucker roasted marshmallows for s’mores she pretended not to enjoy, though her quiet smile betrayed how much she loved the tradition.

Josie stood by the patio table, clearing her throat. Her fingers grazed the rim of her glass as she looked around the backyard at the faces of people who had been through everything with them....team, family, a bond forged through fire and missions few others could ever understand. Cruz’s hand gently touched the small of her back.

They knew they needed to tell them now.  So they both took deep breaths and faced them all.

"We have something to share," Josie said, her voice strong despite the emotion rising beneath it. "Cruz and I have given this a lot of thought, and this decision wasn’t taken lightly. We recently met with Joe and Kaitlyn and…" She paused, glancing at Cruz, who gave a gentle nod of encouragement. "We’ve turned in our resignations."

A breathless silence swept over the group.

Cruz sees the stunned looks on their faces and adds, her voice tinged with emotion. "Like Josie said, this wasn’t an easy decision. We've put a lot of thought into it. We love the work we’ve done with you all, more than words can say. You’re not just teammates. You’re our family. But we need to take this next step for ourselves. It’s time for us."

She glanced around at each of them, her eyes shining.  "We’re ready for something new."

Bobby, who had always been the straight-talking heart of the team, swallowed hard and gave a single nod. "Hell of a run," she said. Her voice strained, and her eyes glistened before she looked away. But then she took a breath, trying to gather herself. "Look, I get it," she added, her tone raw but sincere. "This life takes a toll, especially when you’ve got loved ones. Most of us? We’ve got each other, the job, and the occasional fuck along the way."

Two Cups raised his drink with a smirk. "Cheers to that."

Bobby chuckled, then sobered again, her eyes flicking between Josie and Cruz. "You two? You’ve always had something special. Something more. You’ll be damn hard to replace… but we understand."

Two Cups raised his beer with mock bravado, though the crack in his voice gave him away. "I knew you two weren’t lifers. You were the smart ones. Always ahead of the curve." He rubbed the back of his neck, then his eye, quickly trying to mask the sting. "You’ll be missed more than you know."

Tucker cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant. "We gave you shit, sure, but we all knew, we were lucky to have you." He looked away quickly, rubbing at his eyes.

Randy chimed in with a nod. "Yeah. You both had our backs more times than I can count. That kind of loyalty? Doesn’t just walk through the door every day. We’ll miss that."

Tex, never one for sentiment, finally raised his glass. "Damn right. You aren’t flying for us anymore, Josie, so you can finally drink with us without yelling at us about fucking rotor safety."

He handed her a shot of tequila. Josie laughed and took it, raising it with a cheeky smile. “To the next chapter.”

She downed it in one swift motion, then gently slammed the glass on the table with a proud smirk. The entire team erupted into laughter and cheers, the clinking of glasses ringing out as they toasted to love, freedom, and whatever came next.

Cruz leaned in, grinning with quiet pride.

They watched as the team slowly broke into smaller toasts and shared stories, memories echoing in the open air as they watched their chosen family celebrate with them.

Later on in the evening, Bobby found them in a corner of the patio, sitting and holding hands.  She glanced between the two of them, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she tilted her head, arms crossed casually. "So... this is really it? You two are sure?" Her voice wasn’t challenging, just soft, curious, and laced with emotion only those who truly knew her could hear.

They both nodded.

"We’re ready to move on," Cruz said. "This life gave us each other.  There are other things we want to do that are becoming more important to us." Cruz looked at Josie, dipping her head and Josie knew what it meant.  Josie nodded yes. "Cruz turned back to Bobby, ready to reveal their next step.

"We want to start a family." Cruz said proud and happy.

Bobby's eyes went wide as she looked between them, taking in the soft smiles and quiet joy written on their faces. It hit her just how personal this was, how intentionally they had chosen to share it with her alone. She glanced toward the others in the yard, then stepped forward and pulled them both into a hug, an unexpected move from someone not known for affection. Cruz and Josie exchanged surprised glances, then laughed.

"I’m gonna be a fucking aunt?" Bobby grinned. "Well shit, I’m on board with that."

Josie chuckled and nodded. "We’re keeping it quiet for now as we research our options, but... we’ve started the process."

She reached for Cruz’s hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. It was the first time Josie had shown this kind of open affection in front of anyone on the team. But it didn’t matter anymore. They weren’t operatives anymore, they were simply a couple now, surrounded by friends who were family, and no longer colleagues.

Cruz looked at Josie, her eyes full of understanding, recognizing the quiet shift happening in her wife, the comfort, the freedom of no longer needing to conceal.

Bobby stepped back with a wide, genuine smile. "You two deserve this. All of it."

She looked at them both, her mouth twisting. "It’s gonna be weird without you. The mission, the ops… it’s always been you two. I’m proud of you, but damn, I’m gonna miss you."

Cruz placed a hand on Bobby’s shoulder, steady and warm, her eyes locking with hers. "I told Joe and Kaitlyn you should take over the program. I meant it, Bobby. You’ve got the instincts, the backbone, and the heart. If you want it, it’s yours."

Bobby gave a short, disbelieving laugh, then shrugged, a little awkward at the suggestion. "Me? Nah," she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I’m boots on the ground, not strategy. That’s never been my lane. I punch, I shoot, I cuss too much. That’s my sweet spot." She looked away, then back at Cruz. "But… if you think I could do it… maybe I need to start thinking bigger, too."

"You’re more than you think," Cruz said sincerely. "You're a leader and you give a damn. That’s what this job needs."  Cruz looked at the team who were all congregated together.  "That's what they need."

Josie stepped in and kissed Bobby gently on the cheek. "We believe in you. We always have."

Bobby blinked, clearly caught off guard. She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked away with a sniff. "Well damn bitches.  When you fucking put it that way."  She was visibly moved.

Two Cups joined them just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. "Bobby gets the reins, huh? God help us all." He grinned, then glanced at Cruz and Josie with rare earnestness. "Seriously though. We’re losing the best of us tonight. But I’m happy for you. For both of you."

The rest of the team walked over to them.

Tex raised his glass toward them from across the patio. "To family."

"To family," they echoed.

When the night came to a close, and the backyard slowly emptied, Cruz and Josie stood together beneath the soft string lights. The air was still warm, the sound of laughter fading.

Cruz turned to Josie, her voice full of quiet wonder. “We’re really doing this.”

Josie smiled, taking her hand. “Yeah. We are baby.”

And as they walked inside, holding hands, the future waited just beyond the warm glow of the porch light.....wide open and entirely theirs.

The light stirring noise of a baby woke Cruz instantly. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock on her nightstand....2:00 a.m. A soft smile tugged at her lips, still half-asleep. She turned to her side and saw Josie lying on her back, sound asleep, breathing gently. Cruz leaned over and kissed her forehead softly so as not to wake her, then slipped out of bed.

The soft cries grew louder as Cruz made her way to Josie’s side of the bed, shaking off the remaining haze of sleep. There, nestled in the bassinet, their one-month-old daughter was wriggling, clearly unsettled in her swaddle. Cruz gently reached in and scooped her up, careful not to make too much noise. Josie needed her rest.

Holding the baby close to her chest, Cruz pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and slowly made her way to the nursery. Though fully furnished with a crib, rocking chair, changing table, and stocked with diapers and wipes, they had kept the baby in their room for now.  They weren’t comfortable with the newborn being on her own just yet and would keep her in their room for a few months.

Cruz walked over to the small fridge with her daughter in her arms and pulled out a premade bottle of Josie’s breast milk and placed it in the warmer. She laid the baby down on the changing table and unwrapped the swaddle. She checked the diaper and got to work, moving with a quiet, practiced efficiency.  She continued to fuss as Cruz reswaddled her.

"Hold on, baby girl," she whispered. "Mama's getting your bottle ready."  Cruz grabbed a sanitizing wipe to clean her hands before checking the bottle in the warmer.

She grabbed the bottle from the warmer and gave it a gentle shake before testing the temperature on her wrist. Once satisfied, she lifted her daughter back into her arms and settled into the rocking chair. The baby stirred again, her soft cries rising. Cruz guided the bottle to her lips, and she latched on eagerly.

Cruz chuckled softly. "You're impatient, sweetie."

She rocked slowly, feeding her daughter in the dim light, and let her thoughts wander. Every soft breath, every tiny sigh from the baby felt like the most sacred sound in the world. The warmth of her daughter against her chest grounded her in a way nothing else ever had. Cruz reflected on the weight of the past.  The missions, adrenaline, sacrifice, all melted away in the quiet hush of motherhood. This was the life she’d fought for. Not just to survive, but to live. And as she gazed down at her daughter’s trusting eyes, she knew with absolute certainty that this was where she was always meant to be.

So much had changed in two years.

After retiring from the Agency, she and Josie had left Virginia behind for the sun-drenched coast of San Diego. They were in a good position financially and decided to keep their house in McLean and rent it out.

They bought a home.  A modest, beautiful house, with a decent sized backyard and a pool, and plenty of space to grow.

Cruz had landed a position as Director of Corporate Security at a major company, where she led a team and developed key policies for organizational risk management. Josie, with her extensive flight experience, had quickly joined the San Diego Fire Department’s Air Operations Division. They were both thriving professionally.

And now, they were mothers. Josie, now in her mid-thirties, and Cruz, in her early thirties, had spent nearly five years building a life together since their days as operators. Through the trials of mission fatigue, transition, and redefining what mattered, they had grown stronger. Josie had carried their child and, just one month ago, she had given birth to their daughter: Bianca Carrillo-Manuelos.

Cruz gazed down at the baby in her arms, who was now staring up at her with wide, inquisitive eyes.

“You have your mommy’s eyes,” she murmured, brushing a finger along the baby’s cheek. “That same fierce, intense stare I could never resist. Your mommy had me mesmerized from the very beginning. And you…” she smiled, voice catching. “You already know you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger. With those eyes, I won’t be able to say no to you either.”

She rocked gently, the bottle nearly empty. “We wanted you so much, Bianca. And I promise, I’ll always protect you. I’ll give you everything I never had as a kid. You’ll have love. Stability. Laughter. The world, if I can give it to you.”

Her voice cracked as she teared. “I love you. And your mommy. More than anything in this world, Bianca. Thank you for coming into my life.”

“I can say the same for you.”

Cruz turned at the sound of the voice.  Josie stood at the door, sleepy but smiling. She crossed the room, bent down, and kissed Cruz’s head before brushing her hand gently over Bianca’s head.

“How long have you been standing there?” Cruz asked softly.

“Long enough, baby.” Josie sat on the ottoman in front of the rocking chair and placed Cruz’s feet in her lap, lightly massaging them.

“I wanted you to sleep,” Cruz murmured.

Josie smiled gently. “It’s ok. Our little Bianca has her own schedule.”

“She’s definitely stubborn. Like you,” Cruz teased.

Josie laughed under her breath. “She’s going to be a little bit of both of us, I think. Stubborn and fierce.”

Their eyes met, tired, but soft and full of wonder.

Bianca had drifted off, the last of her bottle finished. Cruz handed it to Josie, who placed it on the nightstand. Cruz then gently shifted Bianca, resting her on her shoulder to burp her. Josie grabbed a washcloth and draped it over Cruz’s shoulder.

“Thanks, babe.” Cruz said softly.

“You're welcome.”

“You should go back to bed,” Cruz whispered.

“I’ll wait until we’re all ready,” Josie said, her voice thick with love as she rubbed Bianca’s back.

Cruz exhaled slowly. “I meant what I said. To Bianca.”

Josie tilted her head. “What part?”

“That I’m thankful. Even though we met during a difficult and painful time in your life… I’ve never stopped being grateful that you were there, that we found each other through all of that.”

Josie reached forward, resting her palm over Cruz’s heart. “That wasn’t coincidence, Cruz. It was fate.  I really believe that.  We were meant to find each other, exactly when we did.”

Cruz blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. “You saved me. In ways I didn’t even know I needed saving. And now, this life we’ve built… our daughter… I just look at the two of you, and I finally understand peace.”

Josie leaned in, her hands on Cruz's lap. “You gave me peace, too. And safety. And a love that doesn’t fade. We built this, together. We've made something beautiful.”

Bianca let out a perfect burp, and they both laughed softly, the tears now warming their cheeks instead of weighing them down.

Josie stood, and Cruz followed, cradling Bianca. With one arm around their daughter and the other around Josie, Cruz kissed her wife.

“I love you,” she whispered. 

Josie kissed her back, eyes wet but glowing. “I love you too....always, baby."

They each kissed Bianca’s soft head and walked quietly from the nursery, hands clasped as they returned to bed, their daughter between them....safe, loved, and wrapped in peace Cruz had never dared to dream of before Josie.

And now, that peace was theirs.