Still in his camo, Terry Thorne stood at the opened door to Sera's hospital room. His heart raced, the rushing blood almost deafening him and he could not bring the toe of his boot to cross the threshold. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? She was just a woman. A very pretty woman. Well trained, intelligent. Why the hell was he finding it so hard to do what he was there to do?

And what was he there to do? Right, right. He was there to congratulate her for a great job. To thank her for taking the most difficult assignment on the team. To tell her she was a valuable asset and ninety percent of the reason the sting was a success. That was it. The perfectly written speech he'd been rehearsing inside his head since they took her into emergency. It was past noon when they put her in a room, but it was taking Terry nearly another hour to get the nerve up to talk with her.

This is insane, he thought. Just fuckin' do it!

He looked up from the floor and saw her, quiet in the bed. But she wasn't alone. What the fuck was Ian doing with her? What was he doing in Mexico City? He watched Mr. Luthan Risk himself smile tenderly down at Sera, holding her hand and talking quietly. Finally Ian's eyes rose and he grinned at Terry.

"Thorne," he said and walked around the bed toward the door.

Terry stepped back into the hall, glaring at Ian's smile. "What the fuck are ya doin' here?"

"Nice to see you too, Terry. Ms. Sera Phillips is the niece of a dear friend. I assured him that I would see to her."

"Uh-huh," Terry grunted. "What are ya really doin' here?"

"Terry," Ian sighed. "Come now. Tough case? Of course, of course. But excellent work…as usual. We will be in touch, more than willing to assist with your next efforts. As you well know, Luthan Risk fully supports this collaborative with anything you need. Money, equipment, manpower."

Terry opened his mouth but Ian interrupted.

"Speaking of which…regarding Mr. Mortimer - "

"Yeah. Mortimer. What the bloody hell, Ian. I thought you were sending me help. The bloke is - "

"Yes, yes. I do know how he appears, Terry. But trust me, there is far more than meets the eye. This man is SAS trained, battle-tested and decorated. He's equipped with a brilliant intellect and strong instincts. I believe he is another…you." Ian's head tilted and he watched Terry scowl.

"That bloke is nothin' like me."

"I believe that he has the potential to be even better than you. Not to mention, he's much younger. We are all aging, now aren't we? Austin Mortimer is the future. I'd like to volunteer him for your next sting project."

"You want me to train him. Forget it."

"You'll find he needs little training. Disciplined, strong. A soldier through and through. All he needs is a bit of time to see how it all works." Terry rolled his eyes and Ian cleared his throat. Attaining Terry full attention, his simply shrugged. "Terry, I'm offering you the best you're ever going to work with," and he smiled. "And in return, I'll replace the best I've ever worked with."

"Right. Fine. I'll think about it." Terry's eyes slid to the opened door.

"She'll be fine. A bit dehydrated, rather exhausted. But she'll be right as rain soon. Back to Ohio and whatever her next project will entail. Well Terry, I'm off to the airport. I suppose you'll be heading for London as well. Perhaps we can have dinner soon."

"Yeah."

Ian chuckled. "Go on then, check on your star team member. I'll ring you next week."

Terry didn't even shake Ian's hand; he simply turned and went to the door. Again, standing there, watching his feet not move into the room, Terry's heart took a drastic leap. The reason? Sera had spoken.

"Terry?"

That was all it took, he drew a long deep breath, let it out slowly and stepped inside, all the way to the bed, his eyes perusing her damaged face. Terry attempted a smile, a lopsided grin that almost reached his eyes.

"Phillips. Uh…I hear you're gonna be fine."

She nodded. "Yes sir."

He couldn't tear his eyes from hers. They were a lovely cornflower blue, moist and glowing. "Uh…well then. Wanted to just stop by… tell you again what a wonderful job you've done…how important your work was to the success of the operation …uh…excellent work Phillips."

"Thank you, Mr. Thorne."

Fuck all, she looked like she'd cry and Terry was hoping she'd take advantage of any psychological help offered to her after such an ordeal. He reached out and lightly patted her shoulder; a tremble of her flesh beneath the hospital gown matched a shudder he was feeling in his own belly. What was it about the woman that shook him so? Of course there was logic…he'd placed her in danger. He hadn't felt so good about that since the moment they'd spotted her in the square. Maybe he was just struggling with his 'father' syndrome. Or perhaps not. Fuck all; Sera Phillips was beautiful, even covered with bruises and a large bandage over her swollen cheekbone. Strikingly beautiful. Beautiful in a way he'd never seen before. Was that what was eating at him; simple carnal interest? Bloody hell, he hoped not.

They remained that way, their eyes locked. Moments passed and he thought he'd lose his mind with the sensations he was experiencing. She blinked; a small tear escaped and trickled down into her fresh bandage.

Terry sighed. "Well then…I wanted to let you know that we will be pulling together a team for another operation of this nature…and I'd be…we'd all be more than happy to have you aboard again, Phillips."

If she was beautiful before, it was as though all the lights had come on the moment she smiled. There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes. "Not as the hostage, okay?"

"Oh no, no of course not," he couldn't help but grin. "Actually, I rather thought I'd take that job next time."

"No!" she gasped and tried to sit up. "No, please not you."

"Shh, now. Relax, love. No plans are made. Shh." His hands pressed to hold her shoulders to the mattress then Terry did something he had no clue he was going to do. Brushing soft golden curls from her brow, he lowered a kiss to her forehead.

The move startled him so much; he cleared his throat and stood at attention. "Well, then…you rest, Phillips. Recover. I'll be in contact with you…perhaps I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon before my flight."

She nodded; the acceptance of a trusting child, but the look of a woman deep in her crystal eyes.

"All righty then," he stepped back a pace. "You rest." Took another step. "Perhaps I will see you tomorrow afternoon." Another step bumped his shoulder against the doorjamb, but no one was laughing. "Excellent job, Sera."

"Thank you, sir."

He swung a perfect about face and left.

***

Sera turned her face to hide tears that soaked her pillow. She choked back a sob, knowing that Paul and Ansi and even Frank were watching. Her heartache was massive, but what did she expect? She knew Terry, knew him like the back of her hand and had loved him since the beginning of his life…since the beginning of hers as well. But he did not know her, was not aware of her. She had proven a good part of his team, did her job well. Exactly what was she hoping for?

And she'd done well for the Elite Guardians. She had done the unthinkable, taken human form and performed perfectly under extremely difficult circumstances. There would be more telling her 'good job', but none would mean the same. Hearing the words aloft in Terry's deep, resonant voice gave her a thousand answers, but only two of them mattered. She'd heard his voice speak her name, Sera, but he'd done so only once. And he had made it clear that she meant nothing more than a team member to him. These were both extremely important facts. She'd kept him focused, which was her ultimate assignment …and she'd known the difficulties of living and loving as a human.

Human. Physical. Water and breath and flesh and bone…and heart. A heart that was breaking. As complex and uncomfortable as her time had been as a human woman, she had come to love it. Love the sensations of heat and cold, pain and joy. The intensity of an adrenalin slamming pulse. The softness of drifting into sleep. The astounding confusion of dreams. And…the sound of Terry's voice as it trembled through her ears and directly into her center. The touch of his hot lips to her brow. Human. Life.

Sera sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Her work was done and she lay, still as death, awaiting death. Awaiting the loss of touch and taste, sound and time. Surely she would be returning to her work now, stronger for her experience… and stronger for the things she would lose. There was no reason for her to remain. Paul had need for her and she prepared herself.

Prayer drifted into tears. Tears drenched her fears and her joys. And slowly…slowly…Sera drifted into oblivion. Sleep. Dreamless, silent sleep.

***

Terry took a hotel room and dropped like dead weight onto the mattress with a bounce. He didn't make flight arrangements and he had no idea why. There was work to be done in London, plans to be made and reports to be completed. But he knew he'd remain in Mexico City, just a little longer. As his body pressed the demand of long needed sleep, his mind raced. He wanted to contact Henry somehow. He needed to know that his son was well and safe. He thought about visiting the hospital as promised, debated the wisdom of doing so. Phillips was a professional; she'd understand that business comes first. But would he understand why he'd left without seeing her one more time? The facts were the facts. He wasn't required to check in on her again or to see her before he left…he wanted to. And therein lay the problem. Why did he want to? Want to so badly he could hardly think of anything else but Henry? How could Sera Phillips so suddenly and completely become such a priority in his mind?

Terry groaned and rolled over on the bed, he threw his arm over his eyes. He sat up and tugged the phone close then dialed. He had a contact at the Peace Corps headquarters. That was as good a place to start as any.

Three hours later, he was finally smiling, the receiver at his ear and Henry's voice making him whole. It was a grueling process, getting through, but worth losing sleep to hear the happiness in his son's voice. Henry was doing something important and Terry was proud of him. Proud of the young man he'd been blessed to father and to actually know as a son.

"Dad, it's bloody amazing how simple it is to help. Michael is bloody remarkable."

"Good, good. You being careful, mate? You and Michael?"

"Yes sir, following all the rules the General drilled into our heads. In fact, it's Michael who really keeps us all on track. He said he hated it, but he uses the training to make sure we're all safe. We're good, but it's a harsh place, Dad."

"I know, I know, Henry," Terry stifled a yawn.

"So everything went well with your operation?" Henry asked quickly.

"Excellent. Couldn't have hoped for better. Mate, I know you can't talk long so I'm gonna let ya go. Just wanted to say…I'm proud of you Henry. And…I love you. Be safe."

"You too Dad. Be safe and I love you."

Terry did not recall hanging up the phone. He woke early the next afternoon, still in his filthy camos, starving and rested for the first time in weeks. He ordered room service and arranged for an evening flight to New York to connect with a London flight the next morning. Showered and dressed in his suit, he glanced around the room and groaned. He began to pace, at first slowly then faster. Back and forth, back and forth, his body and mind slipping between yes and no regarding a visit with Phillips before he left the country. He'd settled on no, left the hotel and climbed into the cab. But to his amazement, Terry asked the cabbie to take him to the hospital.

This time, Terry had no concerns. If he needed to see her, so be it. He'd pop his head in, smile and say farewell. What was the big bloody deal? He walked from the elevator with purpose. Turned the bend and strode to the opened door, even entered the room without stopping…but the bed was empty. Made up and ready for a new patient.

"Where's Sera Phillips? Room 6054, Ms. Sera Phillips?"

The desk nurse spoke little English, but understood enough to know he was concerned. She spoke slowly, clearly, enunciating every word as carefully as she could.

"Room 6054, patient Phillips, gone. No here. She is gone, sir."

Terry's brow curled. "Gone? Left? Ella ha pasado? Sin el permiso?" he asked, trying not to sound desperate.

The nurse nodded her head. "Si, pasado."

Gone. Disappeared without the permission of the doctors. Did that make sense? Terry had to swallow back his concerns. Phillips was a soldier. She was strong and would have only remained another few days in bed to rest. She did what he would have done. Simply said 'no more' and headed home. "Good onya, Phillips," he whispered as he waved for a cab outside.

But something was deeply disturbing about her leaving without a physician's release. Leaving before he stopped in…but was that just his ego? Deep in his gut, he wanted to think she was waiting to see him. Deflated ego aside, he was fired with other concerns.

The long flight to New York felt longer that imaginable and his mind popped and cracked. What if she wasn't stable? Did she just walk out without a word? Why the hell hadn't he investigated further? He should have. He really should have. By the time he landed at Kennedy International, his cell was swung opened before even clearing the jetway.

"Dino, track down Sera Phillips, mate."

"Last I heard she was in a Mexico City hospital, buddy. What's this about?"

"She's gone. Left without a doctor's release. They said she just disappeared."

"Fuck, you think another abduction?"

Terry stopped dead and dropped into a chair at the gate. Bloody hell! He hadn't thought about it, but it was a possibility. Why hadn't he thought about another kidnapping? It should have been the first thing in his head. They did piss off a few small factions down there. The point was…he hadn't thought about it because it wasn't what his instinct was telling him. He cleared his throat.

"Not another kidnapping. She just walked away. I need to know she's okay. Check her landlord, call Paulin Risk then see what we can get from her family."

"Terry?"

"I'll contact the local police, then the FBI if we still can't track her down."

"Terry?"

"I'm at Kennedy International. I'd love to find that kid before I board for London in seven hours, Dino."

"Terry?"

"What?"

"Why?" came Dino's exasperated voice.

"Why?" Terry almost choked.

"Yeah, man. Why? She's not a kid; she's a capable full grown woman. Why the police? The FBI? Fuck, Terry. You want to check up on her, you got her file. Call her house. What say we save the red flag high alerts until we know she's missing?"

He felt foolish. Rubbed his eyes and chuckled. "Sounds rational."

"Yeah, and you don't. Let's start with the simple stuff then go from there. I'm standing by. Hell, you're closer to her than I am right now. You have seven hours, hop over to the lovely Buckeye State of Ohio and check up on our girl. If you find her, tell her I said hi."

"Fuck off, mate." But Terry was grinning, grateful. Bloody hell, what was it about Sera Phillips that made him nuts? It was time to fucking find out.

"Call if you need me, later Ter."

***

Choking. It was the only way he could describe how Terry felt where Phillips was concerned. Choking. Like she either took all his breath away and held it all for safe keeping…or she was the air he needed to live. It was indescribable. Overwhelming. And if he thought it would end with the mission, he had been sorely mistaken. To his amazement, he was climbing out of a cab in front of a modest house outside of Cleveland, Ohio. He wasn't sure if he was walking toward her door or being pulled to it.

The house was dark, silent. He moved to a window and peered inside. Nearly three in the morning, he glanced around; worried he'd be mistaken for a burglar. But in the far corner of the house, there flowed a puddle of soft yellow light. It was probably the kitchen. He pushed past shrubbery and around the house to look into the lighted window. No one. Silent. He stepped back and checked the second floor windows. All dark.

If she was there, he didn't want to frighten her by tapping on the windows. He'd rather just knock on the door like a normal civilized person. If she wasn't there and he encountered the dog sitter or some such, he could be official and ask a few questions about the last time Sera was heard from. But if no one answered? If the house was empty? What would he do then?

"Start with the simple stuff then go from there," Terry mumbled as he lifted his hand to knock. His knuckles tapped politely and he waited. He swung to look through the nearby window. No movement. Another knock, this one harder. He waited, again looked through the window and again, stillness. "Fuck," he groaned and slammed his fist hard, several times as his other hand searched for his cell phone.

Another silent, waiting moment and another round of pounding. This time the door slowly opened.

His heart stopped. The phone fell from his fingers.

"Terry," she said softly and he stepped inside Sera Phillips' house. "What are you doing here?"

Terry shook his head, swallowed hard and whispered, "I don't know." Then his hand reached for her neck and his mouth found Sera's sweet soft lips. And his heart started anew.