I'm sitting up when Andrea comes in, having woken up when Nathan got up to head out for his shift. I've been napping lightly, but with the stress of what's going on, the fact that it was only ten o'clock when I lay down, and that I had Nathan in the same room, I haven't really gotten comfortable. At least Nathan closed his eyes for a little bit.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you,” Andrea says quietly as she comes in, setting her Glock down on the nightstand. “All quiet on the western front, although what Nathan learned...”

Her voice trails off, and I sit up straighter, concerned. “Want to talk about it?”

She looks back at me, then nods, sighing. “Turn your head first though, please? I need to change into some sleep clothes.”

I do as she asks, covering my eyes with a pillow just to be doubly sure, listening as she strips and changes, only uncovering when she says, “Okay, I'm decent again.”

I lower my pillow, and I'm momentarily stunned at how different Andrea looks. Usually, she's strong, feisty, and more than a little sarcastic, in addition to being beautiful. It's what makes her sexy. Now, wearing a simple light blue t-shirt, some cotton shorts and without any makeup, shoes, or even having her hair pulled back, she looks young, vulnerable, and adorable. She's still beautiful, but it's a different kind of beautiful than before. It pulls at me in a different way. This isn't an Andrea I want to conquer, but one I want to protect.

“You're staring,” she says quietly, and I have to force myself to blink.

“Sorry,” I apologize, shifting around and making sure my blanket is over my lap. I don't want her to be embarrassed by my arousal, and the way she looks, I'm certain that's going to happen sooner rather than later. “So, what happened?”

“Not much,” she says, sitting down on the bed. I thought she might choose her mattress, I'd made sure to bring it in just in case, but instead she sits down on my bed, hugging her knees to her chest. “I got through a chunk of The Gunslinger, thanks for that. It's been a long time since I read it, it's a good story.”

“It is,” I agree. “Although I guess it's not the best choice for what we're doing right now. You don't look all that good, to be honest about it.”

Andrea tries to work a smirk up but fails, and takes a deep, shivering breath. “Nathan got a text message, from a contact of his. The man we're dealing with, he's serious shit. Russian Mafia hitman, and just...”

She goes quiet and I shift over, sitting next to her. Without thinking I put an arm around her shoulders, and I realize just how tiny she is. She can't be much more than five foot three or four, maybe a hundred pounds or so. But she's always so strong, so much bigger than she really is, it's easy to forget. “It's going to be okay, Andrea. Come on, you handled this guy once, you did great from what Katrina and Jackson said.”

“I hid and ran like a rabbit,” Andrea says, shivering with long repressed fear. “If Jackson and Katrina hadn't been there, I'd have run even harder.”

“Good,” I tell her, and she looks over, brushing her hair out of her eyes, and I nod, smiling. “You did the right thing, Andrea. You protected your niece, you got away, and you protected Jackson and Katrina too by using the van the way you did. Overall, I'd say you were pretty badass.”

“Will you stop that?!” Andrea nearly yells, pushing me away and getting off the bed. “Will you please stop thinking I'm some sort of Superwoman? I'm not a badass, I'm not strong, I'm not some asskicker like Katrina or Jackson, or even you! I'm just... I'm scared, Carson! I'm scared, and I'm trying not to be!”

I get off the bed and go over to her, where she's standing next to her pistol, looking down at it. “I hate this damn thing. You know, I've never fired one before, except at a practice range one time? Wasn't even one of these things, it was just a tiny little twenty-two that barely made a hole in the paper targets.”

“I'm not surprised,” I tell her softly, putting my hands on her shoulders. “I watched you as you were trying to practice in the dooryard after we got the shutters screwed shut. You looked like a newbie with it.”

“So how does that make me some sort of badass?” she asks, and I turn her around, looking into her beautiful azure eyes. “How am I supposed to protect 'Lissa or BA if all I want is to be protected myself?”

“By being the same woman who pushed herself for years, who knew the risks even as she gathered information about Peter,” I tell her gently. I bring up my right hand, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, giving her a little smile. “There are a lot of ways to be strong. But it's more important to know and accept that there are times when even the strongest people need to relax. Times when it's okay to be open and vulnerable. Wanting to be protected doesn't make you any less strong.”

“You never seem that way,” Andrea says, her left hand coming up to rest on my forearm. “You always seem strong to me.”

“You have no idea how weak I am sometimes,” I whisper, our bodies coming closer until we're almost touching. “Andrea, for almost two weeks now, I've felt weaker and more vulnerable than I have since my childhood. I've spent twenty-three years building up walls around my true self, and then two weeks ago, all those walls were shattered. You stepped out of that van and sent a wrecking ball right through all those walls with a single look from your beautiful blue eyes, and I've spent the past twelve hours scared out of my mind, not because Melissa might get hurt, but because you might be hurt, too.”

“Why?” she asks, her face so open and trusting. “Why me?”

“Because every time I close my eyes, all I see is you,” I tell her, lowering my lips to hers. We kiss, and this time, instead of the fierce, combative passion of last night, her lips are soft and tender, yielding to me and joining me. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her tight as she brings her arms up around my neck, our kiss deepening until we're pressed together, the whole world forgotten other than her touch, her lips, the feeling of her tongue wrapping around mine. There's heat, but it's muted, both of us holding back as we find comfort and tenderness in each other.

I feel so warm and comfortable. It's like a hole in me is slowly mending, and those walls I just told Andrea about, are starting to be rebuilt, but this time with space for some more people inside them.

I step back, taking her by the hand and leading her over to the bed. I lift the blanket and sit down, sliding underneath the cover. “So do you like to sleep on the right side or the left side?”

“That depends,” she says, smiling, a bit of her confidence back. “Do you sleep on your side?”

“Usually my right side, but I've been able to sleep in lots of different positions,” I chuckle, thinking about some of the weird contortions I've had in comforting Melissa and still trying to catch some shuteye. I've pretty much been able to sleep in any position short of standing on my head, although I think I might be able to pull that one off as well.

“Then I'll take your right side,” she says, sliding in next to me and making me scoot over.

I look at the angel next to me in bed, and while I want her, there's no rush for some reason. Instead, her smile spreads as she runs her hand over my arm, feeling the muscles there and giving an appreciative murmur. “I saw it when we did archery, and whenever you're doing work, but it's not all that obvious when you're in your normal work clothes.”

“What's that?” I ask, caressing the soft skin of her back through her t-shirt. “That I need to be in better shape?”

“Actually, I was going to say you're in very good shape,” Andrea replies, her fingers making me shiver. “You're not bulky like Jackson is, but you're no soft artsy type either.”

“Even when I wear the poet shirts?” I tease, and she chuckles.

“Even then. Actually, I kinda like the slim-fit pants you wear,” she says, leaning in and kissing my jawline. “They make your butt look sexy.”

I give her a kiss, deeper and more sensual than our first one, warm desire mixing with the need for closeness and the urge to protect her, and I bring my right hand up, cupping her breast through her t-shirt and making Andrea gasp. “Carson...”

“Andrea,” I reply, kissing along her throat, tracing her pulse with my lips and tongue. She's so sensitive, her body alive and warm and responsive, and I pull her closer, pushing her shirt up to feel her naked, perfect skin. She moans and her fingers dig into my shoulders as I roll her on top of me, my cock hardening as she shifts her legs to straddle me. “Mmm, so perfect.”

“Carson,” Andrea says, pulling back. I release her, worried that I've gone too far, but she smiles and reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She's perfect, and as I marvel at the vision in front of my eyes, she takes my hand and puts it on top of her walnut-colored nipple, sighing in pleasure. “I need more than just a kiss.”