Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

As Diego drives through the gate, the dilapidated exterior of the Hargreeves mansion gives way to a cobblestoned driveway, curving around towards the garage. From Lila’s view out the passenger seat window, the disarray on this side seems less abandoned-urban-decay and more home-makeover, with piles of construction materials scattered around the backyard.

Diego parks the van in the driveway, and they walk in through the garage, Lila releasing his hand to rummage in her purse for her lip gloss. This family get-together had been planned to coincide with Viktor’s weeklong visit to help Luther supervise some of the more involved renovations. Diego had immediately latched onto the idea, a little too enthusiastically. No kids, he had insisted. Lila’s parents were watching all three, leaving Diego and Lila free for the whole night. She even abandoned her usual sweatpants for the occasion, sporting a black skirt and a dark long-sleeved top.

Luther had been making real progress on fixing this place up. Some parts of the mansion are still uninhabitable, obvious to Lila as they make their way around rooms blocked off with hanging plastic. Tonight, however, for the first time the central living room appears fully decorated, and downright cozy. Luther shares Reginald’s affinity for old antiques, but leans more into found treasures and a mismatched, eclectic style. Lots of creaky wooden furniture, rugs with busy designs, and maximalist mixing of floral and animal prints on comfy throw pillows. Reginald’s stuffy atmosphere had been replaced by something warmer, more welcoming.

Allison and Klaus are setting up a board game together on the coffee table, while Viktor works to uncork a bottle of wine. Luther emerges carrying a tray of appetizers, skewers of chicken satay and feta honey bites wrapped in phyllo pastry that Lila recognizes from the freezer aisle. Not that she’s judging, those are some of her favorites.

“You’re here! Great!” Luther enthuses. “Sit down, sit down, we were just about to play a game of… what is it called again?”

“Lords of Vegas,” Klaus drawls. “It’s like monopoly but without any explicit reference to, well, you know… any particular monocled oligarch we know.”

Viktor finally gets the cork out with a low pop. “Wine? It’s red, a blend I think.”

Lila accepts a glass gracefully, but Diego is antsy. “Got anything stronger?”

Luther nods to the restored bar off to the side. “I’m slowly getting it stocked. Nothing top shelf like Dad had, but enough to make some basic cocktails. Help yourself.” He turns to Lila, “Canapé?”

“Absolutely, the feta bites are my favorite.” Lila grabs two, and Luther beams.

“Score!” Diego exclaims, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the cabinet. “We’re doing shots later.”

“Lovely. Just don’t black out or puke in the car,” Lila teases.

“Babe, on Wanda? I would never,” Diego gives her suggestive smile, and she mirrors it back to him, stopping herself from rolling her eyes at the last second. He’s trying.

Allison waves them over, “Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started. I think I’ve got this set up right…”

Everyone? Five isn’t coming then. Lila should be relieved. She could just enjoy the evening now. No need to dwell on that uncomfortable guilty feeling, gnawing around the edges of her awareness.

“What about Cinco?” Diego asks. The gnawing intensifies.

“He said he might come later, but who knows? He’s always working these days,” answers Allison. “Anyways I don’t think board games are really his thing.”

The group settles around the board, getting easily distracted from learning the rules and letting the gameplay get more chaotic as their attention wanders. Klaus takes ages mulling over his options on his turns, giving Lila and Allison time to catch up. Claire is in driving lessons, already. Lila can’t imagine putting Gracie behind a wheel with every idiot driver on the road.

Diego and Luther give up after the first few turns and decide to go out to the courtyard to partake in some knife-throwing, taking the tequila with them. Alcohol and knives, what could go wrong? Not that Lila has the moral high ground to judge anyone’s risky behavior these days.

The game further devolves as Klaus starts to pry into Viktor’s latest relationship drama. Turns out, Viktor’s love life is an epic shitshow.

This is the first time in years Lila has seen Viktor without a long drive hanging over his head. He’s visibly relaxed, openly sharing personal details rather than deflecting. Allison cautiously suggests desperately needed practical dating advice, while Klaus draws tarot cards to inspire his own random interjections. It’s nice to see Viktor and Allison getting along again. Lila wishes she could freeze this moment and just bask in the feeling of belonging. Of having a real family.

Of course, it’s only a matter of time before one of her own fuckups comes back to haunt her. She knows she was never cut out for a normal life. And, given her recent track record, she doesn’t exactly deserve one.

A doorbell rings, as if on cue. Allison is puzzled, “Luther installed a doorbell?” as Klaus yells, “It’s unlocked!”

Five emerges from the entry hall, dressed in his usual impeccable suit, hair just a little disheveled. “Sorry I’m late, did I miss anything?”

“Only Viktor regaling us with his escapades,” Klaus divulges. “Did you know he managed to have two different, consecutive one-night stands, with roommates, never even realizing he was going back to the same apartment?” he continues over Viktor’s protests trying to clarify.

Five grabs a seat across from Lila, scans the board. “Who’s winning?” He casually glances at her, flashing a look down towards her bare legs, then turns to Allison.

Lila promptly gets up. “I need a glass of water. Anyone want anything?” The siblings mostly decline, except Five, who pauses to contemplate his answer. No way she’s waiting for whatever weird request he comes up with. She turns away and exits towards the kitchen.

When she returns, the group has somehow scattered, board game abandoned. Allison can be heard from the dining room, arguing into her phone about the hours of some new project. Viktor has disappeared, perhaps to join the others in the courtyard. Klaus is still lying on the couch, absorbed in pulling tarot cards and wistfully monologuing to himself.

Five gets up as Lila joins them, greeting her with a nod.

“Is the game over then?” She asks the room, turning away from Five.

“That appears to be the case,” Five observes.

Klaus holds up a tarot card, waggles it towards Five. “The Hermit?” Klaus clutches the card dramatically to his chest. “I wonder who that’s about.”

Five rolls his eyes. “Okay, time to find a drink.” He heads to the bar, “I know where Luther keeps the good stuff.”

Klaus turns onto his back and pulls another card, hovering it above his face, “High priestess, and she’s reversed.” He laments, “Repressed feelings, in this family? Not exactly a shock.”

Lila shudders. Enough with the tarot. She’s not repressed. She made a mistake, one time, and it’s over. They were just caught up in the excitement of that night, neither acting like themselves.

It never meant anything, so there’s really no point in tip-toeing around it. Might as well just talk to Five and break the tension. Rip the band-aid off, you know?

Lila hops up onto a chair at the bar, where Five has just produced a tumbler and a bottle of whisky. She reaches past Five to grab his whiskey just as he finishes pouring it. He raises his hands out of her way to avoid a spill, then exhales, exasperated.

Lila grins at him over the glass as she raises it to her lips. A warm smile breaks out on his face as he pours himself a second glass.

“It’s been a while,” he says casually, eyes meeting hers.

Her mind flashes back to the last time they locked eyes, weeks ago. He was gazing up at her while she writhed his lap. He tightly gripped her ass, positioning her. Then his gaze broke, as he tilted his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes…

She glances aside, taking a bigger sip of whisky than she intended. It stings on the way down, and she holds back a cough by sheer force of will.

She tries to match his tone, but her throat still burns, making her voice huskier. “Yeah. Hard to get the whole family’s schedules to mesh.” She swallows again. “Allison said you’ve been working a lot.”

“Well, you know. It does keep me busy…” He takes her in, obviously amused by her struggle to maintain composure. He leans in, lowering his voice, “You look nice. You wouldn’t be trying to impress me, would you?”

“Hardly,” she scoffs, voice finally clearer. She crosses her legs. “I forgot you were even coming.”

Five moves closer as if to whisper in her ear, but faces away from her as he says, “Now we both know that isn’t true.” She hates how easily he sees through her. How it leaves her exposed.

He grabs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and gives her a knowing smile. Then he raises his voice to direct at Klaus, “Lila and I are going out for a smoke, want to join?”

“No, that’s okay, you two go without me.” Klaus answers dreamily. He rolls onto his side away from them, gathering his robe around himself more closely as he grumbles something about second-hand smoke.

Five grabs Lila’s hand, firmly. She starts to protest, but what can she say? Refusing to go with him would make it weird. She follows him out of the room, through the foyer and down the hall. Instead of continuing to the courtyard, however, Five doubles back and pulls her up the stairway.

“What are you doing?” she whisper-shouts, scanning her peripheral.

“Quiet.” He admonishes, eyes fixed ahead on the stairs, hand firmly on her wrist. She helplessly follows, trying to keep her steps light as she ascends behind him.

When they get to the second floor, finally safely out of sight, Lila roughly yanks out of his grasp. “I’m not your bloody dog you can lead around on a leash.”

“Lila, I wouldn’t dare think of you like that,” he says with mock politeness, eyebrows raised. “Just offering a little plausible deniability.”

She shakes her head. This isn’t a game. Time to go back downstairs.

If only she could just get her feet to move.

Five’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “I know you’re thinking about that night.” He’s really perfecting that smolder. “I am too.”

Her heartrate picks up. “Wrong. I’m leaving.”

“Lie to yourself all you want.” The corners of his mouth tighten into a smug half-smile as he tilts his head to the side.

Okay, now she’s pissed. “You know what your problem is, Five?”

“Really hoping you’ll tell me,” he responds sarcastically, but he leans in, his body language egging her on.

“You think you’re better than everyone else. You’re not.” Self-important prick. “One roll in the hay with you didn’t end the world for me.” If Lila can’t get herself to leave, at least she’ll stand her ground.

“I don’t think I’m better than everyone else.” He invades her space, grabs her hips, whispers this last part into her ear, “I know I am.” He draws her closer, presses a kiss into her hair. “Stay.”

Lila knows she should be offended, but she can feel his breath, and her resolve starts to melt. Can’t have that.

“Never.” She answers, shoving his chest forcefully. Five stumbles back, laughing under his breath.

Suddenly, without really deciding to, she steps forward and grabs him. The impulse carries her further and she pulls him in for an abrupt kiss.

He takes her reversal in stride, deepening the kiss and pulling her close with one hand at the small of her back. She took the bait, and now she’s completely ensnared. Why fight it?

“Where?” Lila gasps against his cheek as he kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

He mumbles into her sensitive skin, “my old bedroom, one more floor up.” He pulls away, grabs her hand, lightly this time, and then she’s eagerly following him up another flight of stairs. As soon as they reach the landing and before her brain has fully caught up, he’s holding her again. Like he knows he can’t leave her any time for second thoughts.

They stumble into his room together. Five breaks away and quietly shuts the door, turning the lock. Immediately, as if magnetic, they draw together again.

“Here, the bed,” he suggests, moving them deeper inside. Lila gamely complies, plopping down on the clean comforter and dangling her legs over the sides. Five shrugs off his suit jacket and deposits it on a nearby armchair, giving Lila a moment to catch her breath and take in the room.

“Luther’s put together a proper guest room for you, Five.” Lila lays back spreads her arms wide. She can feel his eyes on her midriff where her shirt rides up. “I guess you’re the favorite sibling then.”

“I’ve just been staying over lately. We had a few late nights investigating Sloane’s whereabouts,” he explains as he sits next to her on the bed.

Luther hadn’t mentioned Sloane in years. Lila didn’t realize Five was still actively helping search for her. Maybe that’s why Luther had been doing so well lately.

Something in Lila’s chest sinks, and her eyes find the door.

Five interrupts the half-baked escape plan by turning her face back towards him for a kiss. His hands are firm, he smells amazing, and she’s desperate for a distraction right about now. She returns the kiss urgently, forcing herself not to process the full implications of the colossal mistake they’re making.

He breaks away to kiss along her neck and across her collarbone. “Careful,” Lila says breathlessly. His lips are gentle, but still, she can’t have him leaving marks for his bother to find.

“I know.” He continues down, meeting the neckline of her shirt, then lower.

She knows she should tell him to stop. Snogging is one thing, but going further while her husband is somewhere downstairs? That’s too far. Too much like the manic life she meant to leave behind in another timeline.

But some part of it seems to have followed her here, and she can’t bring herself to reject it. She aches for it.

Five hitches up her skirt and takes off her thong, tossing it aside. He leans down, pressing kisses to her thighs and exploring her folds with his fingers. Pushing one inside. “You’re already so wet” he murmurs, and she rolls her hips against his hand.

Five places a kiss directly on her clit, and the intense feeling causes her hips to jump up. He holds his lips in place until she relaxes back down, then starts working in earnest with his tongue. Pleasure floods through her, and she grinds against his mouth, chasing the high.

Just like last time, he meets her every move, sucking and then dragging his tongue over the area, heightening the sensation. He’s focusing carefully on her gasps and moans, adjusting and keeping his attention exactly where she wants it. It’s like he’s reading her mind.

For weeks, she hasn’t been able to stop fantasizing about this. Now she’s forced to admit to herself that it wasn’t a fluke, that her memory hadn’t embellished a thing. She’s living it again, and he’s just as good as she remembers.

Five puts a second finger inside her, curling them both forward to hit some extra nerve endings. Fuck, that is working, she can feel the tension coiling in her lower belly.

He curls and uncurls, then starts to pump his fingers in and out, and she can feel more of her own wetness getting everywhere. He pauses. “Lila, you’re gushing,” he says in amazement.

“Shut up and get your tongue back on my clit.”

“Yea, on it,” he says, which, great, because the old man is working miracles with his tongue, but there was something in his voice she can’t quite place. He sucks in again, slow pressure rolling between his lips, and whatever suspicious thought Lila was having suddenly evaporates.

Five cups her ass and pulls her closer to his face. She feels wetness dripping further down as he spreads open her cheeks. With his right hand, he smears more of her slickness there, then down around the rim of her other hole, circling the outside, the new sensation prompting her to give a small jerk. He pauses. “You good?” he asks gently.

God, yes. “I’m fine, don’t stop, I’m getting close,” she orders.

Five smirks and turns his attention back to her clit while his finger teases the rim of her asshole. Now, this isn’t what happened last time. He’s going off script. He presses against the tight entrance, meeting resistance.

And, frustratingly, he pauses again, scanning her face to check in on her reaction. “Relax,” he says, returning his mouth to her before she can tell him off for stopping.

“I’m… I’m trying,” she mumbles out through heavy panting, and as soon as she gets her muscles to loosen, Five pushes inside.

“Jesus, fuck!” Lila yelps. All her nerve endings are on fire. She grabs the pillow from behind her and puts it over her face to muffle her own noises. Thank God they’re on the third floor. “What the fuck? Don’t stop, whatever you do, don’t fucking stop.”

He obeys, working at her clit and pumping the tip of his finger slowly in her ass. Lila feels her legs make quick little trembles. She’s gasping and babbling about how good it feels. And she’s completely giving away how much he’s unraveling her, but then restraint has never really been her thing. Finally, she cries out his name.

Five responds, moaning into her clit, and the vibrating sensation pushes her over the edge. She sobs into the pillow through waves of pleasure, her legs shaking and hips bucking against his face.

He lifts his eyes to hers as she’s coming down. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” His self-satisfied smile shows off his dimples.

So fucking egotistical. But when he moves up beside her, she relaxes her head onto his arm. Still a little light-headed, Lila admits, “God, you’re good at that.”

Five exhales a casual, “Yeah, I know,” but she catches his face sincerely glowing at the compliment as he pulls her a little closer. They share another slow kiss, and she can taste herself on his lips.

It’s not enough. She craves feeling his chest against hers, skin on skin. She fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, following her impulses and awash in afterglow.

He catches her hands in his. Shakes his head, “Not now.”

What? They aren’t going to…? Lila frowns.

Five kisses her forehead, then stands up, “No time.” He straightens his tie and fixes his collar. “If we’re gone too long, they’ll start to wonder.” He seems to be enjoying leaving her disoriented, wanting more. “Next time.”

There won’t be a next time. Tell him. Instead, Lila scooches to the side of the bed to sit again. She looks up at Five, wanting desperately for him to lean down, kiss her, touch her again.

“But what about you?” she asks. Maybe an appeal to fairness will work on him.

 “I can wait.” His eyes wander over her. “I want more time, enough to do it right,” he smirks.

God, that smug face. “Never going to happen,” she says firmly. She wishes it didn’t sound so much like she was trying to convince herself.

He closes the distance between them and brushes his left hand though her hair. Her eyes flutter closed at the contact. He smooths down her tussled locks, erasing the evidence that just moments ago she was arching her back and moaning his name. His gaze softens as he moves to cup her cheek, “It already did happen, love.”

Her stomach flips. “Don’t.” She’s trying not to lean into his palm, restraining herself from nuzzling him like a damn kitten. It’s just the endorphins, she tells herself.

“Don’t what?” He drags his thumb across her lower lip.

Her lips part, “Don’t look at me like that,” then she catches his thumb between her teeth. Don’t call me that.

Five takes a deep breath and looks up toward the ceiling, gathering his composure. Then he exhales and turns away. He picks up his suit jacket and ruffles through its pockets, producing the pack of cigarettes and lighter, then drags open the window.

“We were supposed to be going for a smoke. Gotta get the details right.” Ever dedicated to maintaining his cover. He leans on the radiator and holds up the pack, nods for her to come over.

Lila smooths down her skirt and gets up, trying to steady her legs against residual shaking.

He offers her one, “I hear they calm the nerves.”

She rolls her eyes, “Just give me a light, will you?” She brings the cigarette to her lips and leans on the sill next to him. Five holds the lighter up, and she sucks in as he flicks open the flame.

Lila turns around and faces out the window, leaning on the sill and trying to keep the smoke out of the house. She hears Five’s lighter click again from behind, then he turns to join her.

After a few drags in silence, she feels more composed. Enough for the guilt to start seeping in, heavy and rancid. “That’s probably enough, the smoke smell is getting in my hair.”

Five sighs regretfully, “Yeah.”

She turns to him, “Five, we can’t keep—”

He cuts her off. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go back downstairs.” He puts out his mostly unsmoked cigarette.

Lila is tempted to argue, but he’s right. The sooner they get out of here, the better. She snuffs out her own on the windowsill, leaving black ash on the baby-blue paint as she turns to leave.

“One sec,” says Five, as he’s pulling on his suit jacket. He walks around to the other side of the bed, then ducks down. “Might want these back,” he says with amusement, as he holds up her lacey knickers.

“Toss them to me, will you?” Lila says it with a joking pout, trying to take away his upper hand. Five obliges, and she catches them in mid-air. She steps into them, efficient and practical, though she can feel his eyes on her. Once her outfit is back in place, she flashes him a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Let’s go down separately, yeah? I have to stop in the little girl’s room anyways.” She forces her voice to be light and casual, but she can feel the guilt flooding in, threatening to drown her any second. She needs to get away from him, now.

“Right. Makes sense,” He says to her back as she swiftly unlocks and disappears through the door. “See you down there…” he offers as an awkward goodbye. His words trail behind her as she bolts down the stairs.

Whatever that was, for the rest of the night, it’s nothing, Five thinks. He has to stay calm and collected. Any stray thought, any strong feeling, bury it. Cover that shit with concrete.

When Five makes it back to the living room, Klaus is still at it with the tarot cards, now speculating about Allison’s career prospects. Five has no idea why Allison is entertaining this nonsense. Still, he grabs his whisky from the bar and settles next to them into an armchair with a view of the foyer.

Lila emerges a minute later, not long enough delayed to be out of place. He gives her a quick once-over, noting that she’s overall put together, if a bit flushed. She sits down next to Klaus, relaxing into the loveseat.

Klaus inhales. “I know they’re awful for you, but sometimes I just miss cigarettes so much.” His shoulders follow his heavy exhale downwards.

“I know, kitten” Lila comforts him. “Honestly, they are satisfying.” A grin ghosts around the edge of her mouth as she adds, “For a second, at least. But it doesn’t last.” She gives a dismissive shrug. Five catches the jab and shoots her an indulging smile.

Diego and Luther barrel in together next, with Viktor not far behind. Luther is blaming the wind for his poor showing in their knife-throwing competition, while Diego lectures him on proper form.

Diego’s face lights up when he sees Five, “Cinco, you made it!” Five’s stomach sinks. Concrete, he thinks, and returns a friendly nod to Diego.

Klaus gives Five a look from the side, while Allison asks, puzzled, “Didn’t you already see him? He and Lila were just outside with you.”

“No, we went out through the garage,” Five covers smoothly. “A lot less likely to get stabbed with a flying knife that way.” Lila nods along, as if bored.

Diego shrugs and grabs a feta bite off the nearby tray, pops it into his mouth.

“Yo, Luther. You got anything more to eat besides these tiny appetizer things?”

“Not really.” He gives a shrug. “We could order pizza.”

Lila’s face lights up. “That sounds divine. I’m starving”

I’ll bet you are, Five thinks. But he notices Diego resting his hand on Lila’s shoulder. Five takes a sip of his whisky, keeping his expression neutral.

Viktor chimes in, “Yea I could go for some pizza. I’m good with anything.”

“Pepperoni and mushroom?” Five offers nonchalantly.

“As long as it’s not Hawaiian,” insists Klaus, giving Luther a knowing nod, while Allison suggests a vegetarian option.

Luther promises to get a good spread, then disappears into the dining room to make the call.

The dining room is under active construction, so they all stay in the living room for dinner. Pizza boxes sit open on the bar, paired with paper plates and an assortment of beer. They eat gathered around the coffee table again. Five tried to avoid sitting next to Lila, and unfortunately ended up directly across from her and Diego while they share the loveseat. Not his ideal seating arrangement, but nothing he can’t handle.

Diego finishes off another slice and leans back to put his arm around Lila. Her shoulders tense ever so slightly before she exhales and relaxes, leaning into him.

Five refocuses on what Viktor is saying. “Maybe someone can help me talk Luther out of a state-of-the art gym like the Sparrows had. It’s actually affordable if we instead just set up a few small training rooms downstairs. We can even stock up on some weights. And one treadmill.”

Diego releases Lila to lean forward. “Luther, you think we’re all going to work out together at the same time or something? Come on man, we have lives now.” He relaxes back and puts his hand on Lila’s bare thigh. Lila looks down at it, then steals a glance toward Five. He keeps his eyes carefully trained on Luther, ignoring how his palms suddenly feel sweaty.

As Luther continues describing renovation plans, Five forces himself to ignore Lila’s legs. To pretend Diego’s hand wasn’t occupying territory that, about an hour ago, Five had been claiming for himself.

Viktor begins explaining how unnecessary a rooftop pool would be while Lila nurses her beer. Diego’s hand moves up, closer to the hem of her skirt. Five considers how much longer he has to stay before his departure won’t raise any suspicions.  

“And we’re hoping to get the last bedroom ready for Ben to use in a few weeks,” Luther adds.

Five snaps his attention back to the conversation. “What?”

Allison helpfully steps in. “Yeah, Ben might get out early for good behavior. The hearing went well, but nothing is set in stone yet.”

Five blinks. How had he missed this?

 “Would Ben even want to stay with you? I mean, he kind of hates us,” Diego wonders aloud.

Five mulls it over. “If his accounts were all frozen, he might not have much of a choice…”

“Unless he rekindles his old SparrowBit connections” Klaus offers. “Maybe flees the country.”

Luther scrunches his face, clearly disliking the disruption of his optimistic thinking. “Well, let’s hope he doesn’t do that.”

Meanwhile, Diego’s hand tightens on Lila’s thigh while he pulls her in and kisses her hair, closing his eyes as he inhales.

And that’s Five’s limit. He pointedly checks his watch and says, “Alright, I think it’s time for me head out. I should really go into the office tomorrow and get a headstart on the week.”

Diego disentangles himself. “Bro, on a Saturday? Come on, one more round. Remember Luther’s wedding? You were destroyed, and the next day, fine!” His voice shifts into something more sincere. “Look man, have some fun in your young body while you have it.”

Guilt meets jealousy in Five’s gut, and the mixture burns.

Lila puts her hand over Diego’s on her own thigh, reminding him, “You do know that one of us needs to drive home, right?”

“You can stay the night here!” Luther interjects helpfully. “Most of the bedrooms are totally ready for guests.”

Lila’s face paints a “no”, but Diego’s lights up with hope.

Luther ponders for a moment. “I think Five’s old room has been cleaned recently. That’s probably your best bet.”

Shit. The cigarette smell. It could be a dead giveaway. The same realization dawns on Lila’s face.

“You know what?” Five affects a casual tone. “I might as well stay too, if that’s okay. We’re actually not too far from the office.”

Luther is ecstatic. “Of course! Okay, you take your old room, and Lila and Diego can stay in one of the second-floor bedrooms. Viktor’s is taken, obviously, but I’ll go up and check the others.”

“Great.” Five smiles joylessly into his dimples. He watches Luther scampering out of the room, then drags his attention back to the remaining group. Lila looks at him gratefully, and he meets her eyes for a second, trying to signal that it’s not a problem.

In reality, though, he’s just lost his best excuse to put distance between himself and his idiot brother, and he’s stuck here for the entire night. His stomach turns knowing he will have to fall asleep one floor up from the two of them.

He can do this. He’s a goddamn CIA agent and the Commission’s best assassin. He’s been trained to withstand psychological torture. This is nothing.

Diego, as usual, is testing his patience, going right back to pawing at Lila. “Hell yea, you and me, all night, no kids.” His voice drops. “Almost like staying in a hotel.”

Klaus shoots Five a sympathetic, long-suffering look. Then he turns to say to the married couple, good-naturedly, “I’d tell you both to get a room, but it seems like you’re using our childhood home to save some cash.”

Five holds back a snort. Figuring that little dig at Diego is likely going to be the last enjoyable moment for the evening for him, he decides to try again to retreat.

“Okay, either way I do have to go to bed. Like I said, work tomorrow.” He gets up and addresses the group, “Goodnight everyone.”

Diego doesn’t protest this time, too focused on Lila now. She pulls away for a second. “See you in the morning,” she offers Five.

The rest of the group echoes various farewells back to him. He nods and leaves, thankful he managed to keep his head and make a smooth exit.

The smell of cigarettes does still linger in his upstairs bedroom, so he pulls open the window again. He changes into a pair of flannel pajama pants he keeps at Luther’s, folded neatly in the dresser. 

By the time he’s ready for bed, the smell has been aired out. He lays in the dark and stares at the ceiling. In the silence, he feels a tug on his mind back to Lila. He’s tempted to turn her over and over in his thoughts, examine their fucked-up situation and tear it apart until a clean solution presents itself. One that involves Lila returning to his arms repeatedly would be nice.

During the apocalypse, he used to do the same. Strategizing his next meal turned to fantasizing about food he’d never taste again. Trying to piece together how his family died turned into grandiose hero fantasies. He eventually built up the mental fortitude to stop playing that game, at least long enough to get some rest. He exhales slowly while his muscles relax. The doomed, longing circles slowly wind down, until finally he drifts off to sleep.

Lila’s stomach is in knots, and Diego’s not helping. Her skin is starting to crawl with overstimulation. She fights it off, telling herself that Deigo’s touch should be familiar. He places another kiss on her cheek, and she winces internally.

She knows she could shut this down any time. But Diego was so excited, looking forward to time alone with her. For weeks now, he’d been trying to rekindle something like romance between them. And hadn’t that been what she wanted from him? For him to stop acting like she was the enemy, like their family was a burden? She clearly remembers being so lonely, feeling so far away from him.

She leans back into the cushions and downs the beer she’s been nursing. With Five gone, at least she can finally let her guard down.

The pizza dwindles, and Diego pours out shots for everyone. A pleasant buzz envelops Lila, and it starts to feel more natural to return Diego’s affection. Encouraged, Diego escalates, dropping hints to go upstairs together.

Lila accepts. On top of everything else she’s done, she can’t bring herself to disappoint him. And at least now this stressful evening will finally come to an end.

They retrace the steps she’s already taken once today. She stumbles a little on the stairs this time. Earlier, this was exciting, leading her to an unknown. Now the path in front of her is well-defined, one she can mechanically follow to its conclusion, like some lifeless woman-shaped object.

Sometimes she does feels like one, being constrained into specific and inflexible positions by the weight of her responsibilities. The monotony of it all hardening her into plastic.

Diego’s old bedroom seems comfortable. Not as recently made-up as Five’s, but perfectly fine for tonight. Luther has upgraded the rooms to be more appropriate for adult guests, twin sized beds having been replaced with queens.

As soon as they’re both across the threshold, Diego kisses her. He closes the door behind them and holds her up against it. There was a time when this would have taken her breath away.

She stops him. “Let’s get ready for bed. You know, wash up and everything.”

“Come on, afterwards. Seize the moment.” He fumbles with the zipper on her skirt.

Are they having a moment?

“Right. It can wait.” She kisses him back, trying to mirror his enthusiasm. His strong arms envelop her as they fall to the bed.

She’s acutely aware that Five is in the same house, and thoughts of him begin to invade her mind. She tries to focus, but wherever Diego touches her, Five’s hands are there too. When he kisses her, she can taste Five again. Eventually, she closes her eyes and gives herself over to the fantasy, taking pleasure in it. It feels like her deepest betrayal yet.

Hours later, Diego is still passed out, lying peacefully beside her, and she can’t get back to sleep. She feels empty and numb where their bodies touch, but the guilt is worse, weighing her down.

She knows where things with Five are leading. Discovery. Divorce. Breaking up her children’s home. Losing her newfound family.

Before Diego, the only person she had really loved was her mum. Supposedly, it was the Handler who taught Lila that relationships were about using people. But in truth, when it came to manipulation, Lila was a natural. Maybe there had always been something wrong with her. And now she’s contagious, wrecking not only her own family, but taking Diego’s and Five’s down with her.

Maybe destruction is what she’s after, what powers the electricity between her and Five. Maybe that’s why her skin lights up at his caress, why his kisses feel like fire.

Somehow, even at the bottom of the shame spiral, she’s still thinking about her brother-in-law.

And it’s really not a surprise, is it? It’s impossible, ignoring his presence when he’s just one floor above her. After all, the sleeping arrangements weren’t her idea. It’s not like Diego knew any better, her conscience reminds her. Okay, regardless, she just needs to resist. Stop arguing with herself, stop guiltily replaying every illicit detail, just shut it all down for a few more hours. Just get through the night to tomorrow morning. Without doing anything else really stupid.

The door opens with a soft click. Five bolts upright and immediately reaches for his gun on the bedside table. Early dawn light streams through his window, falling on Lila, barefoot, wearing loose gym shorts and a white men’s T-shirt, likely borrowed from Viktor. The bright sunrays illuminate her hair, giving a delicate halo effect.

“Shh! Try not to wake up the whole house, you paranoid freak,” Lila silently closes the door behind her, locking herself in with him.

Five exhales and drops his head back on the pillow, leaving his gun in its place. “Jesus, Lila, don’t sneak up on me like that.” His heart is still pounding. “I could have shot you.”

She rolls her eyes. “So dramatic.” She plops down on the foot of the bed.

Okay, so she’s in his bed. Obviously not wearing a bra. What’s his next move? With the adrenaline still streaming into his system as the only antidote for his morning grogginess, he can’t come up with a proper strategy. He needs some coffee.

Lila climbs up over his legs, mischief playing on her face.

I guess she’ll take the lead then. He props himself up on his elbows to keep her in his sight.

She stops at his waistband, brushing her hand over him through his flannel pajama pants. His body responds immediately, something he’s gotten used to again after years in his younger form.

“Happy to see me?” she teases, pleased with herself.

Yes, always. “I’m not sure yet. Lila, what are you—”

She pulls down his bottoms and catches his cock in her hand, ending that conversation rather efficiently.

He lets out a surprised gasp, bucking his hips up towards her. So much for my self-controlled and confident act. She wasn’t playing fair though, pouncing on him like this before he’s fully awake and caffeinated.

Lila dips down and takes the head of his dick into her mouth, prompting an embarrassingly loud moan from him. “God, that feels amazing.” He lays his head back down and tilts his chin up.

She holds the base and swirls her tongue against the sensitive tip as she slowly bobs up and down. It’s incredibly pleasurable, and overwhelming first thing in the morning like this.

Five’s thoughts start to scatter. What exactly is she playing at here? Was this supposed to be her getting even after yesterday? Or maybe she was showing off? That last one would make sense, she’s so goddamn good at this.

Lila releases him to catch her breath, using her hand to maintain a rhythm while she explores his inner thighs with her lips. His skin tingles with the sensation, making him gasp.

She moves up and appreciatively kisses just above where his pubic hair meets his abs. “You know, you’re really fit,” she admits between kisses, “why do you always hide it under suits?”

Five tries to think up a clever reply, but instead an earnest compliment tumbles out. “You look good too.”

At that, Lila opens her mouth and licks his lower abs. He bucks his hips up into her hand.

Her face breaks out into a wide, conspiratorial smile before she goes back to sucking his cock. She takes him in deeper this time, keeping her lips wrapped around him snugly. Five feels himself pushing all the way in and against the back of her mouth, threatening her throat as she starts to move faster.

Okay, now he’s really moaning. And he might have just moaned her name? Yup, he definitely did, because he just said it again. He’s losing himself in the dazed feeling of her warm mouth. In the comfort of waking up to her attention like this.

Five idly wonders what it would be like to wake up together every morning. He moves his hands down to tangle in her hair, realizing that it’s still slightly damp from the shower. Now, that’s a shame, because plans are vaguely forming in his head that will leave her in need of another one.

Wait. “You already took a shower?”

Lila pauses and pulls back, catching his implication. She looks off to the side, “Yeah… uhm...” She steels her mouth into a grim line and meets his eyes. “Look. Last night—”

“Stop, I don’t wanna know.” Five lets go of her hair and his hands curl into fists, then uncurl. What is this, some kind of blowjob consolation prize? Fuck that. He slowly presses back at her shoulders, keeping her a safe distance away. The logical part of his mind is frustratingly sluggish while the rest of his thoughts race all over the place. Flashing hypothetical imagery, cycling him through jealousy, anger, need, hurt, back to jealousy, all condensing into a single, delusional claim. She’s mine.

Incorrect, obviously.

Lila stays frozen, her face guarded. “Do you want me to go?” Her voice sounds flat, practical. Maybe a little resigned.

He has no right to be angry. This is the deal, the reality of the mess he’s gotten himself into. Her marriage may be on the rocks, but Five was under no illusion that it was dead, neither emotionally nor in the bedroom. Even if nothing happened last night, it would only be a matter of time.

Another possessive wave hits him. This morning at least, in this room, she can be his.

“You’re staying” Five says, determined. He gently moves her aside, pulls off his flannel bottoms and stands up, fully naked. He pulls her up to standing for a rough kiss, and she grins into his mouth. He feels her up under her white T-shirt, finding her breasts and skimming over her hard nipples. He lifts the shirt up, and she raises her arms cooperatively. Then he tosses it aside and turns her around, pulling her back to his chest. “Bend over.” For me.

Lila complies, making a show of it and grinding back into him on her way down. Jesus, how does she look so good when she moves like that? Five yanks off her loose gym shorts and underwear in one pull, then runs his fingers through her folds. She feels like molten honey. He grabs a pillow and puts it under her to adjust the height, and then, without thinking, he plunges all the way in. It’s like heaven melting directly onto his cock, and he can’t get enough.

She grabs fistfuls of his sheets and whimpers breathlessly into his comforter as he pounds into her. After a few moments of helplessly taking it, she braces against the bed and shoves her hips back in time to meet his.

Her hair tumbles over her shoulders, and the skin on her back is practically glowing in the early morning light. His eyes move down to her perfect ass, smacking rhythmically against his lower abs. He pulls back and gives it a firm slap, earning a muffled groan. He can’t help himself, alright? It’s this position, with its amazing view, and the ability to adjust her hips and keep her angled exactly right. She’s completely under his control, completely his.

Something tightens in his chest. It’s still not enough. She’s too far away. He pulls out. “Turn around. I wanna look at you.”

“Alright, let me catch my breath for a second,” She’s panting as she obediently flips over. He waits a beat, letting her recover, but she eagerly pulls him close again.

Five lines himself up and thrusts back in, and she responds by wrapping her legs around him. He pulls her up to him, catching her mouth in his as she clasps her hands around his neck. He leans them both back down onto the bed, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in as he fucks her. She clings tightly to him.

He places light kisses on her face, starting at her cheek, up to the tip of her nose. He leans his forehead against hers, and the hunger that’s been driving him is briefly sated.

Lila whines, protesting his slowing tempo.

Okay, at this point, he’ll give her anything she wants. He stands up straight again, then repositions her legs vertically against his chest and picks up the pace.

Five reaches down to touch her mouth, and she responds by sucking on his fingers. He takes the hint, and once she releases them, he moves his hand down to her center. Her eyes flutter shut as he makes small, slow circles. He turns his head to the side and kisses her ankle, drawing a little gasp from her, then starts thrusting deeply, which in this position means all the way to the hilt.

“That’s it… more. Faster,” she begs.

He works his fingers more rapidly, simultaneously increasing the speed of his thrusts. Her moans are getting louder, but he can’t bring himself to care who hears. After teetering on the edge for what feels like eternity, she finally cries out her release. He feels her tighten rhythmically around him while her hips undulate in waves of pleasure.

He’s seconds away himself when he realizes that his condoms are sitting uselessly in the drawer below his gun. Shit.

“Lila, quick, where can I…?”

Her eyes widen with a similar realization. “Wherever. On my stomach.”

Wherever? That prompts some interesting imagery, and fuck, now he’s coming. He pulls out and spills the rest of it onto her stomach.

Five holds her gaze as their breathing starts to slow together. He smiles affectionately at her, touches a lock of her hair. She glances down at the mess with a smirk.

“Sorry…” his cheeks heat up. He wants to give an explanation, but he’s coming up empty. Sorry that I got so caught up in fucking away my jealousy, toward my own brother by the way, that I completely forgot about the prophylactics sitting no more than two feet away. He sighs. That inner monologue makes him cringe more than his apocalyptic ramblings to Dolores.

“Don’t worry about it,” she shrugs. “Wouldn’t say no to a tissue though.”

“Of course.” He gets up and looks around, finding a white washcloth instead. “This’ll have to do.”

“Cheers,” she snatches it out of his hand before he can help.

He puts his pajama pants back on and rubs the back of his neck, feeling useless as she wipes herself off. He finds her shorts and T-shirt, places them gingerly next to her. She nods, gaze fixed on the ground.

Lila gets dressed again as she stands up. She takes in a breath, then squares her shoulders to him.

He knows what she’s gearing up for, and he’s not ready yet. He abruptly grabs her and pulls her in for another kiss. He hopes this morning she’s as hungry for contact afterwards as she had been yesterday.

She melts into him. He knew it. After a few moments, though, she pulls away “Five…”

“Shh…” He sits on the edge of the bed. Wraps his arms around her and brings her close. “Just stay a bit longer.”

“I can’t,” she breathes, nestling into him.

He pulls her down with him to lie together on the bed. “Just for a minute,” he bargains.

She settles on top of him and lays her head on his bare chest. Listens to his heartbeat.

He rests his chin on her head and holds her. Her breathing slows. It’s so comfortable, how they fit together. Peaceful. He tries to etch this moment into his mind, noting how the light slants across the bed, catching on her hair and skin. How soft her hair feels. Her smell. He records every detail, so he can turn it over later in his memory, replay it all again and again.

“Five?” she pushes herself up to look at him.

“Yeah?” He gives her a tender smile.

“What are we doing? How did we let this happen?” Her eyes search his.

“I don’t know.” He smooths down her hair. He feels like, whatever he says next, it will break the spell. He hesitates, trying to hold onto the moment a little longer. “Does it matter?”

She frowns.

Nice, he thinks. Women love nihilism first thing in the morning.

“Yeah, it matters.” Lila casts about for a solid argument, a worst-case scenario. “What if we destroy our family, and they never recover?”

“Then they never recover.” His voice is gentle, but it’s a harsh truth. It could happen, might already be set in motion. He can’t see himself recovering from this.

“How can you say that?” She pushes herself off of him, offended. Five aches at the absence. She’s standing now, facing him, so he gets up reluctantly to meet her. It’s a frustrating, inevitable pattern with her.

“That really was the last time, Five.” She says, resolved. “It’s over.”

“You know what? That line gets less convincing every time.” His eyes narrow, and his voice is just a little too harsh, covering a twinge of pain he feels at her words. Where does she get off, interrupting his perfectly good sleep to suck him off, let him fuck her, and then tell him to hit the road? What kind of messed up game is that?

Her voice is serious. “I mean it. I can’t keep doing this to my family.”

He sighs. His plan had been to wind her up then leave her wanting more. He had fantasized about patiently waiting while she wrestled with her desire, not being able to get him out of her system. She’d eventually cave, turn up at his place late some night. Then they’d have hours of free, wild passion. No keeping quiet, no cover story, just his whole flat all to themselves.

But that plan was now in shambles, and he doesn’t have any cards left to play. “I know,” he says softly.

His acquiescence seems to drain away some of her own certainty. She hesitates, looking torn. After a beat, though, her face resets with determination, and she turns away to leave. Right on cue, running back to my loving brother, he thinks bitterly.

He locks the door behind her, contemplating falling back asleep. Letting this surreal dalliance fade away into a dream. He can’t bring himself to touch the sheets, though. Instead, he briskly changes back into his suit and holsters his gun. He gathers the rest of his stuff, tidying the room as he goes.

The last thing to do is to straighten up the bed. He stares at it, paralyzed, and a comforting memory of Dolores surfaces. She always hated it when I didn’t clean up after myself. When the present sharpens back into focus, the bed has been made.

Done. Now it’s time to get the hell out of here and back to his own place.

On his way down the stairs, he catches the sound of a showerhead head turning on again in the second-floor bathroom.

Chapter Text

Heavy rain patters against the windows, coming in louder waves following each gust of wind. The storm had blown in about an hour ago, ahead of the unseasonably warm weather front promising to melt away the remnants of last week’s snow.

Five finds the sound soothing. He’s settled on the couch in gray sweat pants and a dark blue flannel shirt, flipping through the files related to the Keepers investigation and sipping his second glass of whisky. It’s well past 11 p.m. He’s already read through everything here, so he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. They’re still going to be cultists with bad Lovecraftian fanboy tattoos in the morning. Still, going through each file again, checking for anything he might have missed, it’s calming.

This is the first night in two weeks that he’s felt like himself again. Since his last time with her, Lila had been haunting him. He could barely focus at work. He’d constantly had to direct his attention away from reliving their last morning together. How good it had felt to hold her afterwards. How devastatingly beautiful she looked the last time she told him they were over.

Worse, he couldn’t stop cringing at his own behavior. Apparently, Lila showing up in his bedroom, freshly showered, was all it took. He had let himself get swept up, acted so impulsively. And Jesus, so obviously jealous of Diego.

Not that it matters. Like she said, it’s over. The sooner he accepts that, the better. She’s choosing her family, and it’s the right choice.

He’s just not sure where that leaves him, besides alone. But it can’t be more lonely than becoming the last human survivor somewhere past the end of the world. Can it?

Tonight, finally, he’s been successful at fighting off distracting thoughts, one by one, instead focusing on the files in front of him. The sound of the rain outside, every once in a while accompanied by the smooth rumbling of distant thunder, is reassuring. Weathering a storm like this in the apocalypse would have been life-threatening. But now he has a roof over his head and a radiator emanating warmth. The case files are absorbing, the whisky relaxing. He contemplates pouring himself a third glass to let the evening blur away a little more.

Suddenly, a knock at the door raps out harshly, jolting him back to alertness.   

It’s odd, nobody buzzed to be let in. Maybe someone texted him? He looks around for his phone, and realizes it’s on silent and charging in the other room. He puts the classified files into a drawer beneath the coffee table, just in case.  

He opens the door.

“Lila?” He suppresses a shocked stare and schools his face into a neutral expression. But it’s really her, standing in his hallway, dripping wet.

She flashes him a winning smile. “Willing to offer a hot drink to a friend on this wet and stormy night?”

So much for his cozy evening in, along with all his progress in finding a stable equilibrium without her torturing his thoughts.

Forget it. Peace and quiet is great and all, but it’s nothing compared to seeing her again.

He steps back and opens the door wider for her. “Yeah, come on in. I think I have some tea.”  He feels something between his shoulders relax. She showed up here, when he thought for sure she wouldn’t. She wanted to see him.

“Thanks ever so,” she says, gingerly entering his apartment. Beneath her wet puffy coat are loose-fitting light-washed jeans and a black hoodie. Five takes her coat and hangs it on the hook behind the door.

As he puts the kettle on for her tea, Lila leans on the kitchen island. “You know, I was downstairs texting you while getting soaked. Your phone not working or something?”

He winces. “It’s on silent. I must have missed your messages.” He pulls out two mugs. Only an hour ago he was proud of himself for not compulsively checking his phone. “Is everything okay?”

“More or less. I was feeling a little…” she waves her hands vaguely. “I needed to get out of the house.”

Five turns to face her and leans back on the counter. “So you came here? For tea.”

“Not exactly, but since you kept me waiting out in the rain, tea has moved up on my list of priorities.” She says it lightly, but she still pulls her zip-up closer around her.

Five glances over his shoulder to check on the teapot, quietly warming over the stove. Then he turns back to her, steps forward. Slowly, like she might startle, he puts his hands on her upper arms.

“You look freezing,” he says. Her hair is up in a messy bun, mostly dry. Still, some tendrils must have escaped and gotten wet from where were poking out of her hood. Little whisps stick together and curl slightly, dripping from the lowest points of their little arcs.  

“I am,” she admits warily, but she doesn’t pull away.

He touches a small, clear drop of water forming along a strand of hair near her neck. “And wet.”

Lila smirks and raises her eyebrows at the unintentional innuendo.

Five rolls his eyes. “You know what I meant,” he says as he leans back onto the counter.

“Right, sorry I added some levity to your attempt to point out the obvious.” Lila braces her arms behind her on the kitchen island, and then hops up to sit on its surface. Her legs dangle in front of her.

“You know, your kitchen is eerily clean. I bet you could eat directly off these counters,” she observes.

“Well, counters are typically where the food is prepared,” Five explains unnecessarily. If she’s looking for a way to get under his skin, it’s not working.

“Exactly, and not a crumb in sight. A bit anal retentive, no?” she asks in a lazy lilt.

Five looks away without responding. He’s not touching that one.

“Probably for the best, I don’t want any crumbs on my jeans…” she runs her palm over the surface of the kitchen island, feeling for any disturbance from the smooth countertop. Not finding anything, she gives a thoughtful, “hmm.”  

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “You ever shag anyone here?”

“What?” Five asks. He tries to suppress his reaction to just a few blinks, but she caught him off-guard with that one, fair and square.

“I mean in your kitchen, specifically. Put the immaculate countertops to good use.” She taps her knees together playfully and grins at him.

He definitely hasn’t. Well, maybe once or twice he’s started in the kitchen, but by the time they really got down to it, and wait, why is he even trying to give a sincere answer to her obviously bad-faith line of inquiry?

“Calm down, I’m just teasing, Five.”

Five’s mouth forms a line. He is calm. And, fine, if she’s so curious, he’ll bite. “No, I haven’t. There were always more comfortable options. The bed… the couch if we were really impatient.” Should he mention the time with the redhead in the armchair, or would that be going too far? She hadn’t been his usual type but there was something about her plaid skirt that had piqued his interest, and for his enjoyment she had kept it on the whole time.

“We?” Lila feigns amusement, but her tight smile gives her away. “You have a girlfriend or something?”

“Why, are you jealous?” He smirks. It’s nice having the upper hand.

“No. You’re a free man.” She shrugs, as if nonchalant. “Shag who you want.”

Five doesn’t buy it for a second. “Lila.” He moves closer to stand between her legs. He notes where the rain had left little wet dots speckling her jeans. “You don’t have to worry.” His voice is steady, direct. He looks up at her. “We’re good. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

The jealousy he was reading on her is gone, replaced by a flash of guilt, then something more vulnerable that Five barely has a chance to register before Lila grabs his shirt and pulls him closer.

She kisses him suddenly, urgently. Five wasn’t expecting that so soon, but why wait? It’s been two long weeks. He grabs her hips to pull her closer to the edge of his counter. Unzipping her hoodie reveals only a thin, black camisole. It clings tightly to her body, but he finds the hem near her waist and slips his hand underneath.

She sucks in a sharp breath at his touch.

He pulls back. “What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just--" she shivers as she draws another breath. “Your hands are cold.”

“Oh,” he smiles. He rubs his palms together and warms them with his breath. “How’s this?” he lifts a hand to her face. “Better?”

She nods, puts her hand over his and leans into it. 

“Good.” He pulls her down for another kiss, then cautiously tries again to slide his hand under her shirt.

Lila arches her back and pulls him closer.

Jesus, the way she feels in his arms again. Her soft lips, her smooth skin. He’s never going to be able to use this kitchen again without thinking about this. Maybe he’ll cook for her next time… 

The tea kettle starts a gentle whine. Five barely notices, distracted by the lace of her bra, both impeding and inviting further exploration. Inevitably the sound intensifies to a loud whistle, and he has no choice but to stop. “One sec,” he tells her.

“Not yet,” she pulls him back into another kiss.

Fine, let his neighbors be annoyed for once. The whistling gets louder.

After a few moments, Lila lets him go, and he quickly moves the kettle off the burner and turns off the stove. Then he immediately goes back to her.

He kisses her cheek, near her ear. “Okay, water’s ready. What kind of tea do you want?”

She shakes her head. “Forget the tea. Where’s your bedroom?”

Five tries to restrain his reaction to that, but can’t help suck in his next breath a little too forcefully. He pulls her off the island.

Her feet land on the floor lightly, and she pushes him backwards until he’s up against the refrigerator. The metallic finish is hard and cold against his back. Lila grinds against him, and he can feel every motion through his loose sweatpants.

Who needs the bedroom? Five could take her right here. What was it she’d said about his countertops? Immaculate? He could get her back up on the kitchen island, the height could work with the right position…

No.

He’s not losing control again like last time.

“Wait.” He stills and pulls back. “Lila, why did you come here?”

She kisses at his neck, mumbling, “I think at this point that’s fairly obvious.”

He moves his hands to her upper arms, holding her away. “No, I mean…” He pauses, then gently tilts her chin up to make eye contact. “What do you actually want from this?”

Lila gives him a frozen smile, something distant creeping into her eyes. “Do you really want to talk right now?” Her gaze slides to the side, annoyed.

Classic deflection. “I don’t want to play games tonight, alright? After last time, I just…” He lets her go and exhales, dropping his shoulders back to open his posture, earnest. “I didn’t expect you to see you again like this.”

Her face softens. “Me neither,” she admits.

That stings, but Five waits for her to continue.

“It’s all just been, grinding me down? And when I’m not exhausted, I’m crawling out of my own skin. Everyone needs something from me, and it’s too much.” Her voice is flat, like she’s unloading something nobody should care to look at. “Or maybe I’m not enough.” Lila shrugs. “I guess I couldn’t take it anymore, and I just… gave in.” She gestures between them.

He nods. He can manage that, being someone she can run away to. Letting her burn off steam, or maybe rest and recharge. He knows how draining it can be, just acting normal.

Five draws her to him again. Into the hug, she says, in a small voice, “I think, maybe, you were right. When you said I wasn’t cut out for a domestic life.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He pulls back to look at her.  

Would Lila believe him, if he tried to take that back? This timeline hadn’t been a good fit for either of them. Maybe assassins aren’t meant to retire after all.

The right words to comfort her won’t come, but her full lips are right there, and now he’s kissing her again.

She returns the kiss, clinging harder to him, breathing faster.

He knows Lila’s just trying to push away the thoughts she just confessed to. But if that’s what she needs from him, so be it. He understands that survival can require distraction, self-delusion.

Five spins them around, pushes her up against the refrigerator. It rattles in reaction. Something inside falls from one shelf down to another. He tugs up her tank top. She helps him lift it off, revealing the black lace he’d been tracing over before. He looks down briefly, then back up at her flushed cheeks.

He grabs her hand. “Bedroom’s this way.”

A minute later and she’s lying on his bed, while he reaches under to unclasp her bra. He tosses it aside to land on top of his discarded shirt.

Ever since Five’s been in this timeline and his body aged enough for him to attract women, this has been his favorite part. Right at the beginning, when they’re both still sensitive to the lightest touch. The organic responses. Spontaneous. Not like the echoes originating somewhere deep inside his own mind. 

He starts undoing Lila’s jeans, then she wriggles out while he pulls them off her. He realizes her underwear matches the bra he just took off her. And that the matching set looks a little nicer than the lingerie she had on at Luther’s place. Coincidence, or was she trying to please him?

He takes a moment to appreciate it, sliding his finger along the lace edge at her lower stomach, then down along where it meets her thigh. Unfortunately, pretty as the craftsmanship is, it is in his way. He hooks his fingers around the sides and slowly pulls it down her legs.

Then he’s back, kissing the inside of her thighs. Moving down, until his mouth finally reaches her.  

Alright, actually, this is his favorite part.

Delores had never gone for this sort of thing. She preferred it when Five kept his eyes on her face. It left more to the imagination. Kept the romance alive.

But when he finally felt ready to be with someone new, romance wasn’t what he had been looking for. What he found instead was a world of new sensation. These women didn’t have to tell him a story about what they were feeling, but could communicate just with their own bodies. Hands guiding, breath hitching, voice moaning. It was so vivid and tactile, sometimes even overloading his senses.

In the absence of telepathic connection, he had to learn to pay careful attention to his partners’ reactions. And he was a quick learner. Listening for little signs of pleasure, correcting until he found the right pressure and applied it to the right places.

Tonight, with Lila, he wants to take his time. He starts slow, prioritizing pure pleasure over building her towards any destination.

And he knows it’s working because Lila can’t keep quiet. She’s alternating between gushing over how good it feels and begging him for more.

When he finally slips a finger in, he finds her so wet and pillowy soft and warm that he moans into where he’s working at her clit. He feels her react too, and her leg muscles start to clench on either side of his head. He doesn’t want her to get close so soon, though.

He slows down, removes pressure and goes for texture with his tongue instead.  

Lila gives a frustrated groan and pushes her hips up towards him in a plea for more friction. He backs off further. It’s not happening until he’s ready to give her more.

When she relaxes, he lets himself escalate again. His presses more firmly with his tongue, adds gentle sucking. One finger becomes two.

Eventually Lila’s words of praise give way to pure profanities and named appeals. Fuck. Jesus. Bastard. Oh, God. Five. That last one runs around his head, making him dizzy.

He thinks he finds that spot inside her, its texture familiar against his fingers. Her vocal response removes all doubt.

Her hands are in his hair, and he can feel her legs start to tremble.

He tries to back off again, but Lila isn’t having it. She holds his head down firmly and grinds against his face. He gives in and pumps his fingers into her again and again, spurring her on as her muscles tighten rhythmically around him. She forces his mouth into place as she rides out each wave of pleasure with her hands gripping his head.

When she finally lets him go, Five’s lungs burn. “Jesus, Lila, you trying to suffocate me?”

“I don’t know.” She’s just as winded as he is. “I’m sorry, that’s not…” She tries to get control of her breath. “Fancy using a safe word?”

“I don’t believe I’d have been able to articulate it,” he says with a rueful half-grin.

“Tap my hand in Morse code?” she offers.

Five sits up. “Unnecessary. I could have extracted myself.” He climbs up her body. “But I was trying to cooperate, what with you being so insistent.” He likes watching her struggle to regain her composure after he’d been the one to shatter it. He pushes a lock of her hair out of her face, tucks it gently behind her ear.

“Stop that.” Lila refuses to meet his eyes.

“Hmm, so bossy,” he chides, distracted, still touching her hair. Her bun is barely holding together at this point. Better to remove her hair tie completely. He gently tugs at it. “Take this out.”

Her eyes narrow at him, but she reaches up and helps, pulling away the elastic and letting her dark hair spill out onto the pillow beneath her.

“That’s better,” he says. With her hair spread out around her, coupled with her large brown eyes and classical features, she looks straight-up angelic.

Lila seems unsettled again under his gaze. She bites her lip.

He can’t help himself. He touches her bottom lip where it escapes from her teeth, still swollen from kissing him. And anyways, he knows physical contact is more comfortable territory for Lila.

But she still surprises him by taking his index and middle finger into her mouth, closing her eyes as she tastes herself on them.

Then she swirls her tongue around his fingers and sucks. His breath goes ragged. She matches him, chest heaving as she fellates his fingers, getting off on the show she’s putting on. Who knew he could work her up again so easily, he barely had to lift a--

Lila’s hands find the waistband of his sweatpants, and suddenly she’s touching him through the loose fabric. He was already hard enough before she started reminding him of how incredibly good she is at giving head. Now it’s taking all of his self-control not to buck towards her hand, desperate for more contact.  

Instead they work together to pull his pants down and off, followed by his boxers.

She moves to touch him again, but he grabs her hand, then pins it next to her head. “Just a second,” he says, giving her another quick kiss. He pushes off her to open the drawer to the bedside table, then quickly pulls out a square foil.

“Oh, so now you have the presence of mind to put on a condom for me?” Lila says, amusement playing in her voice.

Five’s cheeks heat up. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying, last time you weren’t so patient.” She stretches languidly, then trails her hand down her body to brush lightly over her own stomach.

It’s a surgical strike. The casual reference to the moment he’s been agonizing about for two weeks.  And the deliberate reminder of that specific imagery... A mixture of desire and shame calls up an impulse in him to make up for it, to do whatever she wants.

She’s flexing old Commission muscles, just for fun. Dangerous without even trying.

“Lila, I’m...” He exhales, tries to keep his voice measured. “It won’t happen again.”

But of course she refuses to drop it. “Is this the great Number Five, embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer that. She sees right through him, and he hates it, and did she just say he was great?

She relaxes her head back onto the pillow. “I guess in the end shame does encourage safe sex.”

He can think up a few good comebacks to that as rips open the wrapper. He’s not stupid, he knows she’s getting a thrill from how forbidden this is. And her shame spirals afterwards? Better to fuel the unhealthy cycle.

But he’s the last person to judge anyone’s coping mechanisms.

He positions himself over her again and smiles down at her. “You win, alright? I’m completely filled with shame.” He can’t help but let a little sarcasm come through. As much as he’d tortured himself over it, that morning couldn’t have been a complete trainwreck. Otherwise she wouldn’t be with him again now.

She smiles, showing some teeth. “How do you manage to sound like such a smug prick while you say that?”

He shrugs. He didn’t mean to, but he has more important things to worry about right now. He dips to catch her lips. She gives his bottom lip a sharp bite before surrendering to his kiss.

The storm outside seems to be getting stronger. Low, white noise from the steady rainfall fills the bedroom. In the grand scheme of things, Five feels pretty lucky. This world is still turning. He’s in his clean bed with warm, dry blankets. And by some miracle, so is Lila, all soft skin and inviting curves, squirming beneath him as his hands roam. Their circumstances aren’t ideal, but dammit if this doesn’t beat a whole plethora of worse alternatives out there. He kisses her slowly, trying to savor every second.

But Lila breaks the kiss, impatient. She locks eyes with him as she wraps her legs around him, encouraging him closer.

The sound of the rain gets broken up by a rumble of thunder as he pushes into her. He barely catches her making a strangled sound of pure need before the noise from the rain swallows it, falling heavier and louder than before. Lila clings to him, lifting her hips to meet him each time until he’s completely buried inside her.

Five fucks her with deliberate, deep strokes. He kisses down her neck, across her shoulder, along her collarbone, back to her mouth. He focuses on each sensation, forehead on hers, eyes closed and breath mingling. Then cheek to cheek, the smells and sounds of her enveloping him. Part of him wants to stay like this forever, to sink into her over and over again until the end of the world.

And why rush it? They don’t need to keep quiet or get back quickly so as not to arouse suspicion. They can take as much time as they want, and they both want this, here and now.

“Please.” Lila’s hands are in his hair again, pulling. Her ankles lock behind him. “Faster,” she begs as she writhes beneath him, forcing him to break rhythm. He gives in, speeds up a little bit.

But apparently not enough. With a frustrated huff, she rolls them both over and straddles him.

She sinks down on him, saying, “We don’t have all night, old man.”

We don’t? But his protest never fully materializes, because now she’s riding him, much faster than before, almost desperate. Her hands are on his chest, then move down to run over his abs. He grabs at her hips, moves his hands up her stomach, then further to touch her breasts. She lets out a strangled moan and covers his hand with hers.

She moves their joined hands back down, towards her center. Together they touch her there, increasing her pleasure in tandem with him hitting inside of her.

A louder crack of thunder tears through the room, but Five barely registers it. He’s completely absorbed in watching Lila, skin glistening with sweat as she works them both further into their frenzy. She’s more and more radiant with every roll of her hips. Eventually he has to look away from her, determined to hang on long enough for her to finish first.

When she sounds like she’s nearly there, he risks a glance. The sight of her above him flickers in and out. He can make out her eyes closed in ecstasy, her lips parted as she dangles over the precipice, until she finally crashes down and around him in pure, unguarded release.

The flashes of images are all he can take, and he closes his eyes as he finishes inside her, surrounded by her, saying her name into the dark room. By the time he comes back to himself, she’s collapsed onto his chest, both of them finally spent.

Five steadies his breath, eyes closed, inhaling the scent of her hair and slowly rubbing his hands up and down her back. Lila relaxes her full weight onto his chest as her breathing calms in response.

He wants to know what she looks like, to see if she’s sharing this content, endorphin-drenched feeling. He opens his eyes.

And he finds nothing. Just a blank, black emptiness.

Something’s wrong.

And it’s happened at the worst time, when he and Lila were at their most vulnerable. His hands tighten on her, holding her safely against him while he assesses.

He knows total darkness like this. He used to have to fall asleep in it every night. Panic starts to creep in. He fights it off, checking that where he’s gripping Lila, his fingers sink into real, human skin.

“Five?” Her voice is all soft concern. “I think the power went out, that’s all.” She must be tilting her face towards him. He can feel her chin on his chest. “It’s going to be okay.”

Of course, the storm. His mind clears, the crisis now identified and absolutely manageable. First things first, stop being weird and squeezing the woman he’s just taken to bed. He forces his hands to relax and let her go. They’re a little shaky with adrenaline.

“Right, that must be it.” He shifts beneath her. “I’ll find my phone.”

Lila moves to his side, and he turns to blindly feel around his bedside table. She cuddles up to his back.

Five’s grateful for the contact. Without it, in the dark he could lose track of her.

When he finds his cellphone, the glowing screen illuminates the space around them. He lies back and angles the phone toward her, relieved to finally be able to see her face. 

She rests her head on his shoulder. Beyond a few feet, the phone’s light fades into nothing but darkness and the continuous sound of the heavy rain.

Lila sighs. “I should check my phone too, make sure everyone’s okay without power.” She stretches. “Mind if I use the torch on yours to find it?”

He navigates through a few options to turn on the phone’s flashlight, then hands it over.

She picks his shirt up off the ground on her way out. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asks, pulling it on and fastening a button somewhere halfway down one-handed.

“Be my guest,” he says. He sits up against the headboard.

Blackness envelops him again once Lila’s left. Five takes slow, steady breaths. Little flecks appear in his vision as his eyes adjust to the absence of light. They drift slowly down, until he feels the light flakes of ash land on his skin. They’re clearer now, falling all around him through a sickening, burnt fog. He closes his eyes against the familiar scene, but he can still see every detail.  

A hand touches Five’s shoulder, and he jumps. Light floods his vision again, disintegrating the flashback. He looks around in bewildered panic, trying to reorient himself in the present.

It’s just Lila, returning with his phone.

He takes in a shaky breath. “Everybody okay at home?” He asks to divert attention away from his overreaction.

Lila sits next to him again, carefully. “Yeah, they’re fine. Also lost power. I convinced Diego not to drive anywhere, what with street lamps and traffic lights out.”

That’s wise. Lila should stay off the streets too until the power comes back on.

After a pause, she continues a little awkwardly. “I told him I would stay put and sleep over at Karen’s house.”

Five raises an eyebrow.

“What? She’s real. Another mum from Gracie’s school.” Then she continues tentatively, “So, would that be okay with you? If I stayed here?” She quickly adds, “Just until the power comes back on. Then I can call a cab.”

“Yes, stay,” he says, also a little too fast. He pauses. “It’s a sensible solution.” He hopes that addendum undercuts the some of the intensity he can’t keep out of his voice.

She exhales and leans against the headboard next to him, gently takes his hand in hers and places a light kiss on their entwined fingers. He can’t stop himself from smiling, glowing warmly at the prospect of sleeping next to her. He just hopes it washes out in the blue-tinged light from their phones.

A little while later, they’re both washed up and in bed again. Lila is a little impressed by how smoothly they were able to coordinate in the near-total darkness. Five had let her borrow his spare toothbrush, and didn’t complain when she went for his high-end moisturizer, even after she made fun of him for buying it. When she boxed him out to monopolize the sink while she brushed her teeth, he just waited patiently, holding her from behind and teasing her with soft, distracting kisses in ticklish spots on her neck. Lila knew they were acting too cute together, too domestic, and that was definitely a new level of wrong, but what was she supposed to do? It’s not like she personally knocked down the power lines.

Now she’s wearing a set of Five’s boxers and his T-shirt for pajamas. Five has disabled the idle screen lock on his phone, and it’s serving as a soft nightlight from his bedside table. Apparently he prefers the possibility of his phone battery draining to them falling asleep without any light.

Lila’s turned on her side with her back to Five. He seems fine now, but he had been a bit twitchy at first in the dark, so she figured he might want some space. Plus, he didn’t exactly invite her to stay the night of his own volition.

Not long after they’ve both settled in, however, she feels Five’s hand cover her shoulder protectively, as if making sure she’s still there. His touch is grounding, soothing. Eventually, Lila can’t help but inch backwards toward him.

Five responds, pulling her flush against himself and draping his arm over her waist. She melts into the embrace. Even then, he tentatively asks from behind her, “Is this okay?”

Lila nods, and he holds her a little tighter. They’re so close together like this, Five’s whole body warm and solid against her, his smell all over her. Lila brushes her hand along his forearm, and his muscles relax with a contented sigh. Her eyes fall shut.

There’s a soft click, a transient buzz.

And the lights are back on.

Lila forces her eyelids to stay down. It’s too bright after she’d adjusted to the dark. Five’s hands clutch her instinctively at the new stimulus, but after a moment he puts it together and his grip on her loosens. Lila puts her hand over his and holds him in place, not ready yet.

But eventually she has no choice but to open her eyes. To acknowledge the lamp on the bedside table, obviously back on. The window, too, transmitting the restored light from the street outside. The hum of appliances now audible, only noticeable in contrast to the total silence that just broke.

“What time is it?” she asks.

Five sighs. He reluctantly lets her go to check his phone. “2:30 a.m.”

As soon as he’s released her, she’s already sitting up and reaching for her own phone. She opens a rideshare app and regretfully finds several drivers already popping back up, chasing the hope of surge pricing and desperation.

“It’s late,” Five says, “and there may still be accidents on the road.” He cautiously looks toward her. “No one would fault you for staying until morning.”

He’s right. It’s probably safer to wait until morning. But he shouldn’t be the one looking out for her like that. And what is she doing here, really? Cuddling up with Five like they’re what, some cheap imitation of a real couple?

She can feel Five observing her little mental spiral, annoyingly perceptive as usual.

He runs a hand through his hair. Exhales. “I can drive you back too, if you want.” He messed up his own hair, and somehow that makes him even more attractive, and now she’s aching for him to hold her again. But he also looks… weighed down.  And she won’t burden him any further.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says, looking at her phone as she accepts a ride from a driver. Only five minutes away. She gets out of his bed and starts gathering up her clothes scattered on the ground, clearly visible now.

He stands up to join her. “I don’t mind.” He pulls a soft jacket out of a drawer, navy blue and unidentifiably generic, probably CIA issue. He puts it on without a shirt underneath, leaving his sweatpants in place.

Lila pulls her jeans back on. “My cab’s already on the way.”

He blinks, then shoves his hands into the jacket pockets and his face stills. A mask of calm detachment appears. Familiar, but it’s the first time she’s seen it tonight.

Good. Lila thinks with a suffocatingly tight feeling in her chest. Easier to face him when he’s like this.

“I’m sorry... I need to check on them,” she explains.

“I know,” he responds, gaze downward.

He walks her to the front door as she pulls together the rest of her things. Jacket, purse, shoes. She hovers at the threshold, though, unable to leave just yet.

“I do appreciate it. You letting me stay through the outage.” It sounds more like an apology.

“Any time.” Five exhales a humorless laugh. “Or is this the part where you tell me that we can never do this again?”

That’s a fair hit. Maybe she owes him the truth. “It’s supposed to be. Except I can’t make myself stay away from you.”

He lifts his eyes to her, something questioning barely coming through.  

“But I can’t stay either,” she says with finality.

He gives her another expressionless nod, and then she’s out the door.

Lila stands in the hallway, frozen, unable to face the world outside. Or the one waiting for her when she gets home.

Then her phone buzzes that the driver’s arrived, and the next steps become clear. One foot in front of the other. Leave, get in the cab, go in the house, check on the kids, shower, fall asleep next to her husband. Back where she belongs. 

On the drive home, however, watching the rain run down the window and distort the passing lights, Lila can’t help but wonder. What would it be like, to not belong to anyone? To be nobody’s trafficked daughter, nobody’s pregnant lover, nobody’s wife? Maybe there’s an alternate reality out there, where she had chosen differently. Where she would have been free to spend the whole night exactly where she wanted, and wake up in his arms.

Chapter Text

April

Soap bubbles swirl around the sink in slow, listless circles. Lila reaches to switch on the disposer and clear the drain, but stops herself when she realizes Diego is still talking.

“So, what do you think?” He’s carrying over a new stack of dishes.

She takes them from him, then her hands are back under the hot water. “About what, love?” she asks distractedly.

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice is threaded with disappointment. As usual these days.

“Sorry, Diego. I’m a little tired. Could you tell me again?”

“I was saying, we should do a weekly date night.” He says it like he’s really onto something now. “You know, make time for each other.” He nudges her shoulder with his. “Reconnect.”

The thought leaves her numb. “Alright. That’s a good plan,” she says, a little too flat. “A really good plan,” she adds more convincingly.

“How about Wednesdays? Can your parents take the kids?” Of course he chooses halfway through the week when she’s already depleted and still too far from her next chance to rest.

“I’ll ask them.” She gives him a brief smile, then refocuses on the dishes.

One more addition to the never-ending, draining acts of service that lie ahead. She keeps hoping it will get easier, but it’s been months, and everything at home still feels muted and exhausting.

Her only source of relief is the time she steals to be with Five. She waits days for the high, all the while knowing she’s a terrible wife, terrible mother, terrible person. But when it finally comes, it’s euphoria. For a little while.

If she would only make herself stop, her baseline might readjust so normal life becomes bearable again. Maybe that would finally fix things.

Or maybe not. For a while now, her marriage has been a bloody mess. Even before she mucked it up beyond all recognition.

Last January

Lila’s turned the brightness all the way down on Diego’s phone, but it still threatens to give her away in the dark bedroom. She’s scrolling through weeks of flirtatious conversations. Jokes liked with heart emojis, just a friendzone purple at first, but later evolving to a flirtatious pink, then full-on red.

As his coworker, “Amy,” tests the waters, Diego falters. Sometimes he backs off and changes the topic. And sometimes he takes the bait.

Amy: So you’ll be all alone? On a Friday night? 

She added that exaggerated teary-eyed emoji. So cheesy.

Diego: Yeah, she’s got a book club thing

Amy: Why don’t you come out with us? It will be fun, I promise!

In the next text, Amy drops an address. Lila clicks through, and it’s a hotel.

Diego: Is there a bar there or something?

Amy gives a thumbs up.

Amy: Come find me when you’re free from kid-watch, Daddy.

Diego: You’re too pretty to be saying stuff like that to your coworkers

Amy responds with a halo emoji and red lipstick. Coming on a little strong, there.

Diego: Like you don’t know what you’re doing. Troublemaker

Diego: See you Friday

And of course, Amy reacts with a red heart.

Well, it’s fairly obvious to Lila that Amy wants to sleep with her husband. And Lila can’t fully wrap her mind around the possibility. Would she be angry? Sad? The strong emotions won’t come.

It wasn’t always like this. Loving Diego was exhilarating. Aggression, affection, manipulation, passion, all swirled together. The ups and downs, however, started to wear on Lila as they cycled over and over again on the same finite track. She found herself opting out, avoiding fights and embracing a more distant, emotionally regulated approach as their family grew and their lives got more hectic. Now she wonders if it’s even possible to get back on the ride.

She tries to visualize Diego leaving, really just gone. Even after everything she’s changed about herself to make a family with him. That finally evokes something painful. A familiar thought: if she was really loveable, her family wouldn’t be so fragile. She would be cared for, secure.

She silently puts the phone down. When she lays back to close her eyes, the world feels more… tilted. As if the ground beneath her has started to dissolve, leaving her house unprotected and teetering dangerously over the edge.

April

The gray and white painted bars of the outer fence stretch upwards, somehow stark against an identical pallet in the overcast morning sky. A gate mechanically grinds open, and Ben appears, accompanied by a bored prison guard.

Allison walks forward to meet them, and Ben reluctantly accepts her hug. A good sign, Lila hopes. She watches from the car as they walk back together.   

“How’s it feel to have your freedom again?” Lila asks from the driver seat as Ben opens the passenger side door.

He settles in next to her and reaches for his seatbelt. “I’ll let you know once I check in with my parole officer,” he responds sarcastically.

Lila rolls her eyes. Jeez, she thinks. Just trying to make conversation.

From the back seat, Allison takes another tack. “We could grab a bite to eat before we take you to Luther’s. Any particular food you’re nostalgic for?”

“It’s 10:30am,” Ben says flatly.

“Perfect time for brunch. Pancakes?” Lila offers.

“Oh, there’s a place on the way that makes good waffles too.” Allison adds. “You like waffles, right?”

“I’m more of a savory breakfast guy,” Ben says defensively.

Allison looks unconvinced, but she goes along with it. “I’m sure they have eggs and bacon too.”

The restaurant is mostly empty when they arrive. On the weekends, this place is usually slammed, loud with the clinking of silverware and crowded in so densely that you can barely back up your chair.

But now they have a whole section all to themselves. Lila scans the menu while stretching her legs to enjoy the extra room. It’s calm enough for her pause and take in the rustic knick-knacks in the window sills: dried flowers tied with yarn, straws of hay scattered around tiny rocking chairs and glass cows. The miniature barn evokes an unwelcome memory of a nauseating smell of dead grass and manure. On second thought? She may in fact prefer this establishment when it’s too crowded.

Ben closes his eyes as he smells his fresh coffee, and his prickly defenses seem to melt away for a second. Allison catches Lila’s eye with a little smirk that Ben thankfully misses.

“They do have eggs and bacon, but I have to try the cinnamon swirl waffle. Look at the picture!” Allison tilts the menu towards Ben, and he glances at it.

“Enjoy the sugar rush,” he says with an apathetic lilt.

Lila suppresses an eyeroll while she peels open the lid of her creamer capsule. Was Ben always this much of a dick about everything, or did prison make him worse?

When she looks up from stirring her coffee, Ben has just finished shrugging off his jacket, and Lila freezes. Winding up his left arm from wrist to upper bicep are two intertwined tentacles set in black and blue ink. Along the way, they are dotted with bulging, otherworldly eyes.

The illustration wouldn’t be out of place as a nod to Ben’s former powers. But Lila immediately recognizes the imagery in that tattoo.

She needs to talk to Five.

Last January

Five picks Lila up from the bus stop near her house. She has to hold in a laugh as soon as she gets into the car. He looks absolutely ridiculous with that silly mustache.

He’s offering her a lifeline, though. Lila can’t do the sad housewife thing. She already had to endure watching Diego put extra effort into his routine today. A fresh shave, a long shower, even a spray of cologne. By the time he spun her a story about how he’d have to pull a night shift and leave the kids with her parents until Lila got home, his intentions with Amy were a foregone conclusion.

So she’ll take the night out investigating batshit timeline rejects over sitting at home waiting up for her philandering husband.

Even if she must cringe through Five’s terrible fake facial hair. It looks like some square in the CIA had been trying to correct away from undercover rookie, overshot, and ended up with pervy serial killer.  

Five is reviewing the objectives of the mission. Simple: establish familiarity. Mingle, listen, blend. The local Keepers already know Nancy, but tonight will include a larger swath of the regional membership.

Mid-lecture, Five grumbles something about how Lila’s outfit doesn’t really facilitate blending into the background.

“You like it?” Lila asks, looking down at her own red dress. She thought it was a good find from the nearby thrift shop. The over-the-shoulder sleeves added real elegance, which she amped up with a pearl necklace. If Diego was going out in style tonight, so would she.

Five answers with nothing but an annoyed huff before returning to his dull briefing.

While Five checks in at the hotel reception, Lila hovers warily in the lobby, sizing up the inoffensive abstract paintings. Maybe the hotel art in Diego’s proximity is better.

She was already told that it’s standard protocol for the CIA to book a room in these situations, even if there’s no plan to stay the night. Quick access to a private area can be useful if things go sideways. But Lila still pokes fun at Five when he returns with a room key.

“Angling to hook up with someone tonight?” She gives him a conspiratorial smile. “Fine by me, but just remember that you’re my ride home.”

Five barely acknowledges the joke, focused more on tucking his keycard into his wallet. “I guarantee I’ll get you home in one piece.”

“That sounds boring,” Lila counters.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he responds smoothly, as he gives their surroundings a habitual scan.

“Have a drink with me, and we’ll call it even,” she bargains.

“Fine.” Five finally looks at her has he offers her his arm. “Just don’t go nuts on the open bar.”

Lila takes his arm and leans in. “No promises,” she says with a smile she knows he hates.

Even with her headstart on conversational lubricant, the Keepers are boring. The new ones are worse than the locals she’s met. Same weird tentacle body art, but more obsessed with delusions of grandeur. Willing to go on ad nauseum about other, more exciting, lifetimes. Wild adventures taken, ground floor investments made, beautiful celebrities bedded. Almost as bad as listening to Diego go on about joining the CIA.

God, this was supposed to be an escape from having to think about him. How did she end up at a party full of his psychological doppelgangers?

While Five stands next to her and dutifully encourages a long monologue about the untraceably cryptic financial holdings of alien elites, Lila starts zoning out. Her attention catches on the thematic tattoos scattering through the crowd, picking out the identifiable details on autopilot.

They’re everywhere, as if a sea of mismatched tentacles and geometric sigils is preparing to summon a whirlpool and drag her down to the unknowable depths. Maybe they should just do it already. At least then the drowning feeling she’s had all night would make sense.

How is it that the boredom never seems to affect Five, when Lila’s crawling out of her own skin? His restraint is usually aggravating, but tonight it’s unbearable.

And you know what? She’s done accepting his carefully managed façade. She already made herself play along with Diego’s little game of pretend, but Five? She doesn’t owe him her willingness to fake it. And she knows she can make him crack.

Lila starts small, a few flirtatious jokes here and there. When he deflects them all, she escalates to invading his space. But that doesn’t work either. Ruffling his hair? He just pulls away, indignant but still in control. Adjusting his collar? Not a flinch, stoic as she lets her fingertips brush against his neck. Introducing herself as his date? He goes along with it. He even smiles at the “handsome fella” compliment she dropped to twist the knife.

As she heads back to the bar for a refill, she feels a proper sulk coming on. She hates this mission. And she hates her wet blanket of a brother-in-law.

Maybe this distraction is played out.  

But where should she go next? Home isn’t an option. She could try crashing with Allison or her parents, but of course they’d want her to explain…

Then it hits her. The hotel room, courtesy of the CIA. She could play hooky and sneak off there, tell Five she found a ride home. He won’t even notice.

She grabs two champagne flutes off the bar as her plan falls into place.  

Lila rejoins Five as an awkwardly close-talking Keeper rants about how banks are the unnecessary middlemen of the multiverse. She makes like she’s trying to hand him a fresh drink, but instead intentionally spills it down the front of his shirt.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry about that!” she says in Nancy’s American accent. Lila hands him a napkin to help him wipe away what he can. The Keeper looks around awkwardly, his threadbare social skills failing to help him navigate this turn of events.

“It’s fine, just… be careful,” Five says, finally showing a hint of irritation.

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Of course darling.” She uses a second napkin to dab his pants near the front pocket. “Oh, this won’t do at all. I’ll find more napkins,” she says as she makes a swift retreat.

She tucks Five’s wallet into her clutch as she walks away. When she gets to the bar, she does grab more napkins. But she also discretely transfers the two hotel room keycards to a side pocket of her purse.

She returns to fill Five’s hands with more napkins, then goes back to patting at him herself. Meanwhile, the Keeper rapidly describes what, to Lila, sounds like a jumble of illuminati Madlibs. Five’s trying not to drop any napkins while drying his shirt, fighting off Lila, and struggling to parse the Keeper’s meandering logic. Plenty of distraction for Lila to easily slip the wallet back into his pocket.

“Okay, enough. I’m fine,” he protests, straight-up interrupting the Keeper.

Lila backs off. “Alright, let me toss these for you,” she says warmly, bunching up the used napkins and grabbing for his.

He exhales, “No need, really” but Lila’s already snatched them out of his hands and is making her escape.

Instead of turning back after throwing the napkins in the bin, however, she walks towards the ballroom exit and down the hall to the elevators. Lila’s almost made it away clean when she feels Five’s hand on her arm.

Busted, she thinks. She turns to gives him an innocent look, then meaningfully drops her eyes to where he’s gripping her.

“Nancy,” he says, his face finally showing something darker than the polite mask he’s had on all night. “We need to talk.”

April

Outside the restaurant, the clouds have gotten darker, ready to deliver the season’s typical midday showers ahead of schedule. Lila had excused herself from Ben and Allison on the pretext that she was checking in on the kids. Instead she’s typing out a text to Five as she paces around the parking lot.

Lila: We need to talk

No answer.

She waits a minute or so while she bites on a nail. Then scrolls through photos and moves a few particularly cute pictures of the twins from this morning over to the shared family album. Back to her messages.

Still nothing. What, the man’s too busy for a quick text?

She navigates back through her contacts and taps on another name: Jerome.

Lila: Seriously.

That gets his attention. He’s typing out an answer already.

Jerome: When?

There’s no good time, but she has a small window after dropping Gracie at ballet class.

Lila: I’m free a little after 2

He immediately sends her an address to a café in his neighborhood.

It stings a little, being ignored until Five realized it was about something more important to him. But it’s not fair to expect him to be at her beck and call, not when she’s the one forcing him out to the edges of her own life.

Nothing about what they’re doing is fair.

Last January

Lila tries to yank her arm away from Five, but the movement just drags him towards her. His hand finds her waist, and he holds her close so she can hear his lowered voice. “Not here, let’s use the room.”

He releases her and calls the elevator.

Well, so much for Lila’s escape plan. At least she’s finally annoyed him enough that he has to call a timeout. It’s not much, but she needs a win tonight.

Five drops his act the second the elevator doors close on them. “What exactly are you trying to do out there? This is the opposite of a low profile.”

“What, spilling a drink? It was an honest mistake.” Lila puts her hands up in mock apology.

He’s skeptical, but drops it to move on to his next grievance. “And when you said we were dating?” He puts too much disdain into the last word for Lila’s taste.

Lila rolls her eyes. “Calm down, grandpa. You do know how to improvise don’t you?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? I’m the one trying to keep it together. Your energy’s been all over the place.” His voice is getting louder with open exasperation now, and a victorious feeling rises in Lila’s chest.

The elevator rings out that they’ve reached their floor, and Five falls silent, pulling his cover back in place. Barely. His hands are clenched into fists, and he’s avoiding looking at her. And Lila’s feeling more self-satisfied by the second.

When they reach the room, Five pulls his wallet out to get the key, then stops, his frown deepening.

“Looking for this?” Lila asks, flaunting his keycard with a wide grin.

He shoves his hands into his pants pockets in frustration and stands back, gesturing to give her the right of way to unlock the door and enter the room.

Five bolts the door behind them, then slides the door chain locked for good measure. “I’ve put up with your games all night, but I draw the line at petty theft.”

Uh oh, now she’s in trouble, Lila thinks. And she’s absolutely itching to push her luck. She walks further into the room to hide her excited grin, then opens the bathroom door. “Wow, the CIA didn’t cheap out. Look at this bathroom! Is that a rain shower?” She runs her hands over the soft, fluffy towels stacked under the counter.

“Jesus, think you can you focus for one second?” Five’s pacing now. Under his breath he rasps, “Worse than Klaus...”

“Rude.” Lila moves to open the closet. “Wow, hangers that come off the bar.” She grabs one and brandishes it towards Five to accentuate her point.  

Fives interlocks his hands at the back of his own neck, then brushes them up through his hair. He inhales deeply to gather himself. Exhales. “Lila. We can’t be changing our cover story to… this,” he waves quickly at the space between them, “in the middle of an investigation.”

Lila drops the hanger on the bed and steps closer to him. “Oh come on. Nobody cares whether we’re knocking boots. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Fun? That’s bullshit, and you know it. We aren’t playing around here.” If he’s going for serious superhero, he’s failing. He sounds more like a dusty school teacher, scolding her for losing focus in his class.

Lila reaches up to smooth his hair where he ruffled it. “Relax, Five. All this stress can’t be good for your blood pressure.”

He grabs her hands in his to make her stop touching his hair.

“I mean, even your mustache is starting to come off,” she says with a quick laugh.

He rolls his eyes and lets go of her to remove it. It was never really out of place, but he looks better this way. “Why steal the room key?” He demands.

“I dunno, why not? I was getting bored enough to skip out on your lackluster mission. Thought I could camp out here for a spell.” She leans against the closet door and crosses her arms. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

Five looks like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You wanna quit for the night, so you decide to steal a hotel room?!” He steps toward her, intent on spelling out exactly how nonsensical her plan is. “We’re supposed to be slow-walking the Keepers. Leaving early isn’t a problem. Drawing attention so you can steal shit out of my wallet is.” The venom drains just a bit from his voice as he adds, “I could have just taken you home.”

Lila looks to the side. “Don’t fancy going back home right now.”

Five has somehow gotten close enough that it’s hard for her to avoid looking at him. “Why not?”

There’s something gentle in his voice that takes Lila by surprise, and her guard drops for a split second. “It’s nothing,” she says, unconvincingly.

“Lila. What’s going on?” He’s holding full eye contact now.

She can’t take the thought of him knowing about it, that she wasn’t enough for Diego. Lila puts her hand up to push him away, but she stops short when she notices how solid his chest is. He must have some proper muscle under that dress shirt.

He looks down at her hand on his chest, a little bewildered, but not retreating.

Suddenly, Lila isn’t satisfied by just avoiding going home, by just distracting herself from Diego’s betrayal. The absence of pain isn’t enough. She wants to fill the void, feel something else instead.

She wants to feel him.

With both hands, she grabs Five’s open leather jacket and pulls him in for a kiss.

His lips are soft and yielding, and he smells so good. She wraps her arms around his neck and brings him closer.

He abruptly pulls back. She chases him for a second before stopping herself. He looks at her, eyes narrowed in question.

She can’t take the interruption, not when she was finally connecting to something after feeling so untethered. She runs her hands over his shoulders, back down his chest. He closes his eyes at the sensation. She takes his tie in her hand and pulls him back to her, “Please,” she begs. Now that she’s had a taste, she needs more.

As soon as the word leaves her lips, he’s kissing her back, harder. He presses her up against the closet door.

His kisses trail down her neck. She pushes the leather jacket off his shoulders.

“Lila,” he says as he breaks away from her to take a breath. “We should stop.”

She doesn’t answer, instead loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his shirt. He’s probably right. But after spending all night waiting to find out that her house burned down, it’s an unbelievable relief to finally light the match. The fire’s quickly spreading over dry kindling, and the word, “should” has no hope of stamping it out.

He tries again in vain. “We can’t.” His hands are in her hair, and one of them slides down her back, going right to the clasp holding the zipper of her dress in place.

He forces his hand to stop, then rests his forehead against hers, the gesture full of longing.  He draws a breath to steal himself.

“What about Diego?” He says it with finality, like he’s certain speaking his brother’s name out loud will be enough to break the spell.

He has no idea.

She breathes into the space between them, “He’s… with someone. Else.” She lets out a little laugh. “Believe me, I’m the last thing on his mind tonight.”

Five pulls back to look at her, searching. She sees him putting the pieces together, finally making sense of the evening.

She shrugs a little helplessly. It’s not so bad, now that it’s finally out. The truth is that her marriage is failing. And part of her doesn’t want to save it.  

He offers a final offramp. “You’re sure?”

Is he asking if she’s sure about Diego? Or if she’s sure that she wants this? She’s never been sure about Diego, never been sure about their life together. The second question is simpler, and the answer is clear as a bell.

She nods in affirmation, and suddenly he’s kissing her again. “His loss,” he murmurs against her lips. He finds her zipper again and pulls it down urgently, letting her dress fall to the floor.

April

Lila spots an empty table near the window and takes a seat. The café isn’t too crowded, its tables mostly occupied by twenty-somethings quietly typing away at their laptops. Through the window, Lila takes in the sun finally emerging after the midday rainstorm. Its light sparkles off the puddles outside.

Five finds her a minute or so later, carrying two hot drinks with him. “Your tea,” he says as he passes her a to-go cup.

“Cheers,” she says, taking in his crisp suit. Usually, by the time she sees him, his hair is more ruffled, the lines of his suit more relaxed. The man in front of her now feels like a different version of Five, the daytime copy the rest of the world gets to see.

“So what’s this about, Lila?” His tone is clipped, businesslike. Not a trace of the after hours softness she’s gotten used to that saturates each of his earnest compliments, every urgent plea.

“It’s Ben,” she answers.

Five’s eyes sharpen. He must have wondered whether the imagery was related before. The thought had crossed Lila’s mind too, but she figured she was just biased by the other timeline, connecting dots that weren’t relevant in this reality.

“He was released this morning. Allison and I picked him up.” Lila meets his eyes. “Five, he’s got one of the tattoos.”

His hands tightens on his own coffee cup. “Describe it,” he directs.

Something cold in Five’s tone reminds her of Hazel’s, “Elaborate,” and she wonders if Five had his own go-to phrase for enhanced interrogation. Lila’s been struggling for years to act normal around her neighbors, her kids’ teachers. Her parents. None of them would accept her, if they knew what she really was. Does Five even try to hide it?

She files that question away under, “Reasons to stop fucking Five:” subcategory, “No future together.” The mental archive was mostly useless, only taken out after the fact. Maybe, if she accumulated enough evidence, it would eventually weigh enough to tilt the scales.

“It went up his arm. All tentacles and gnarly eyes. Otherworldly. Like the others but… more realistic.”

Five looks down, thinking for a second. Then he asks, “Did he get it in prison?”

“I don’t know, but he’d have to have been locked up with an artist. This was a custom job. High quality,” she explains.  

Five sits back. “Okay,” he says, visibly analyzing hypotheticals and deciding on next steps.

“You think it means anything?” Lila asks.

“I’m not sure…” Five sips his coffee, then makes his usual grimace at the unsatisfactory taste. Even at the café he suggested. “But I think it’s time to find out.”

Lila nods. “Has there been any news with them? Since…” she trails off.

“The local chapters have been maintaining their usual patterns.” He pauses, picking out a relevant detail. “There’s another regional meeting though, announced just this morning.”

“Weird timing…” Lila says.

“Yeah, a little too weird,” Five agrees. “I’ll check out the regular meeting this Friday, see if I can’t suss out anything about Ben.” He hesitates for a beat, then asks, “Think you can get away?”

“Are you asking me to be your date again?” Lila grins.

“That was your cover story.” He gives her a rueful smile. “You know I had to tell the local Keepers you ghosted me. Some of them don’t talk to me anymore because they think I chased you off.”

Lila laughs. “They have no idea we’ve been shagging this whole time.”

Five seems a little taken aback by her referencing their relationship in public like this, no shame to be found. Maybe Lila shouldn’t be so bold, but it’s easier for her to acknowledge sneaking around when the purpose is to fool the Keepers.

Lila continues, “I think I can get away. I mean, I haven’t exactly stopped going to book club.”

“Good.” Five leans back with his coffee, nearly finished now. Lila sips her tea slowly. They don’t have anything else to discuss, but she doesn’t want to leave just yet.

Five breaks the silence, his voice a little too casual not to be calculated. “How much more time do you have?”

She knows what he’s really asking. “Not enough,” she preempts. The twins kept waking each other up all night, so she’s running on barely an hour of sleep. Her morning with Ben and Allison set her back too, and she hasn’t had a spare moment away from her errands ever since. “I still need to go grocery shopping, then pick up Gracie…”

Not to mention that she doesn’t feel very attractive right now. No makeup, hair partially falling out of her bun, yoga pants and Uggs. Compared to his professional attire, Lila feels at a disadvantage. Vulnerable.

But Five doesn’t seem bothered as he takes in her shabby outfit. Like he’s assessing its access points, plotting out possibilities versus time constraints. “We’ll be quick,” he surmises.

So what, they’re going to sneak it into the middle of her normal day? It’s a line they haven’t crossed yet. Her heartrate picks up.

“I only have…” she looks at her watch, “Twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.” She’s arguing against it, not negotiating. She was too tired anyway, right? Except suddenly she’s feeling a second wind.

“I can work with that,” he says decisively as he gets up.

She should tell him no. That there’s no way she’d go back to his place and let him fuck her before she rushes to the grocery store.

But it’s too strong. That urge to make the worst possible choice with him. “Fine, but you owe me one if it takes any longer. And the clock starts now,” she responds with a conspiratorial grin.

“Of course.” He offers her his hand politely, and she grabs it, threading her fingers in his as they leave the café and head towards his car.

Last January

Lila’s lying next to Five, still coming down and trying to get her thoughts back into some kind of organized progression.

Beside her, Five is staring up at the ceiling, also seemingly struggling to make sense of what just happened. His breath hasn’t completely slowed down yet, and his muscles are relaxed. Except for where he’s drawing his eyebrows together.

He turns to look at her.

“Well, that was…” Lila trails off with a smile. “What was that?”

The concern on his face starts to melt, just a little. “I don’t know.”

She inches a little closer to him, and he puts a hand on her shoulder. Their noses touch.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Lila admits.

“I know,” Five says, direct and cocky as usual. But then his voice shifts to something softer. “But with you… that was more…”

“Exhilarating?” She offers brightly. “What can I say? I’m good at it too,” She stretches. “And I didn’t even try any of my best moves on you, you know.”

 “Oh yeah?” His eyes wander down over her naked chest as she arches her back. “Like what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She snuggles against him.

“I would,” he says sincerely, then pulls her into a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, and so slow. Like they have all the time in the world. His hand brushes her hair back behind her ear, then stays there. Lila could get used to being kissed like this.

Or she could live in the real world. She breaks the kiss and turns away.

In front of her, her phone lights up from where it’s lying on the bedside table. The real world it is then, whether she likes it or not. She grabs it to check the notification.

Four missed calls, all Diego. Loads of texts too.

When she opens the messages, she has a moment of relief that it’s nothing about the kids. But then she keeps reading.

D: Lila, I screwed up

D: I kissed someone. It didn’t go further, I swear

D: I’m sorry. I want to tell you everything

D: Please pick up the phone

D: Please

It goes on like that, imploring, then asking where she is and when she’s coming home. More panicked apologies.

So Diego didn’t go through with it. He prioritized their marriage, their family, over some cheap thrill. Lila’s stomach turns.

She squeezes her eyes shut against the generic hotel room lamp and off-white paint on the walls around her. What has she done?

April

Lila strains for the doorbell while balancing two large paper bags full of groceries in her arms. Gracie beats her to it, tall enough now to easily ring the bell and summon Anita to the front door.

“Lila, dear, you’re carrying too much,” Anita lightly scolds with a wide smile. A familiar chasm of guilt opens up in Lila’s chest. What would this version of her birth parents think if they knew? That while they were babysitting, for free, she was being—

Anita interrupts her train of thought by taking the grocery bags out of Lila’s hands. She’s too exhausted to protest, and instead goes back to the car to retrieve the next batch.  

By the time the groceries are put away, Anita’s adamant about staying to help prepare dinner, commenting on how Lila looks worn out. While Ronnie entertains Gracie and the twins, Lila further exploits their kindness to quickly run through the shower.

In the bathroom, she checks her sweatshirt collar. The smell of Five’s cologne lingers, but it’s not too obvious. When she steps into the hot shower, she lets out a hiss as her back muscles relax enough to register where they’re sore. No surprise there, she’s been on her feet all day, except for… when she wasn’t. For the thousandth time, she wonders how she could still be doing this to Diego. He’s tried so earnestly to fix things.

He had freely confessed everything about Amy. He told Lila how his work was so demeaning, and Amy made it all feel lighter, more fun. Diego still felt haunted by his father’s expectations. Obligated to be special, striving to be the best, but never allowed first place. And Diego didn’t have to be the best to get Amy’s attention.

It all made sense to Lila, as she absorbed his apologies, reflecting back nothing in return. He made a mistake, but Diego was trying to be better, and he was dedicated to their family. For a while after, Lila told herself she was the same. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

What a joke.

Her conscience starts to circle through the greatest hits: what’s wrong with her, why can’t she control herself, she’s gone too far this time. Like a broken bloody record.

But there’s another track playing on repeat too. The way Five touches her, like every inch of her skin is a wonder to him. His green eyes, able to shift so quickly from cold practicality to soft affection, just for her. How sometimes when he kisses her, he makes the whole world melt away. No pretending, no thinking ahead, just the pure shared sensation of taking each other in.

She quickly shoves the images away. Cranks up the volume on the guilt playlist instead. She maxes out the water temperature and lets her vicious self-critic run wild, burning away every other thought in its wake.

Last January

Lila goes tense beside him as she checks her phone. Something’s wrong.

Five wants to reach out, pull her back into his arms and away from whatever ruined the mood. But he knows it won’t work. The small gap between them now feels like an uncrossable distance.

Once she’s seen enough, Lila drops the phone and gets out of bed. She quickly finds her dress and holds it against herself as partial cover.

That makes her feels even further away. Five sits up cautiously.

She walks around the bed to find her underwear, thrown to the ground on the other side. She grabs it and pulls it on.

Five tries to keep his voice calm. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asks, facing away from him. “I’m going home.”

“Lila, we should talk about this,” he reasons as he shifts to get out of bed, still naked.

“What is there to talk about?” she says over her shoulder, looking for her strapless bra and coming up empty. Five spots it on the ground next to an armchair, blocked from Lila’s point of view by the ottoman.

“I don’t know, maybe what you’re going to tell Diego?” He pulls on his boxers and stands up.

“That is none of your business.” She finds her purse instead, picks it up.

“Actually, it is, given what we just—” He stops. Takes a calming breath, then tries again. “I’m just saying, if I’m going to be covering for you, we should be on the same page.”

“There’s nothing to cover up.” She finally meets his eyes. “This never happened.”

Bullshit. It happened for her twice. He can still taste it. “If that’s what you’re going with, maybe you should use the shower before I drive you back.”

Her lips part as she processes the unavoidable practicalities of what comes next. Her eyes are wide, and tears gather near the bottom.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a shower,” he says, softening his voice. “Afterwards it will seem like nothing happened.” He picks up her bra and hands it to her.

She accepts it wordlessly, then takes the bundle with her into the bathroom. If the tears do fall, it’s not until she's closed the door behind her.  

Five hears the shower start, imagines Lila stepping under the water. On the other side of that door, she’s suffering, in no small part because of him. His chest twists unpleasantly. He leans his forehead on the outside of the bathroom door, wishing nothing stood between them. Wishing he could take away her pain.

But what’s done is done. The fallout from this? On Diego, Lila, their whole family? On himself? It’s unavoidable. Collateral damage.

He’s made impulsive decisions before, and he’s had to absorb their devastating, irrevocable consequences. Imagining things aren’t so bad, that if he just says the right words or makes the right plan, he can turn back the clock and undo it all? Short of the relying on godlike machinery to restart the Universe, it never works. He might as well enjoy what little he can for as long as it lasts, until the other shoe drops and takes it all away. 

He pushes off the door to get dressed.

By the time he’s shrugging his jacket back on, Five’s decided that it doesn’t matter much to him what Lila’s text messages said. She wanted this. Five could feel it the way she touched him, how she kissed him. In the relief that flooded over her when she finally let herself go.

But that doesn’t mean she’ll admit it to herself. Lila’s willing to break a rule here and there in order to eke out enough happiness to sustain herself. But at the end of the day, she has a habit of running back to the people she thinks she owes.

That’s fine. He can be patient.

He’ll find an opportunity to get her alone again. Sooner or later.