The bridge to the ferry welcomed me like an open door. I smiled, full of hope and relief that this mess could finally be over. My mission would be completed – the red stamp thrown away – and I could return home. Only, this time, I would be alone.

My smile drifted away with the wind. The friend that stood by my side for so many years would not accompany me there, or even be waiting for me to return. We lived close – exactly five feet away from each other – in opposite flats in the same building, and had done for the past four years.

I had protested to him buying the flat at first, but soon warmed to the idea of having an excuse to talk to him outside of work. Although I was reluctant to admit it at first, I enjoyed our daily commute to the agency. Even when late – at Scotty's expense – we still managed to buy ourselves a coffee; I chose a cappuccino while Scotty bought a mocha with extra cream and chocolate dust. We'd laugh as we reached the station, barely catching the train with Scotty imitating the Director's dark demeanour that would greet us as well rolled in. When he thought I wasn't looking, he would subtly check over his shoulder as though Alistair was somehow listening. I never called him out on it.

Now I would do it all alone. I would place one order on my way to work, squeeze from the platform to the train by myself and stand in solitary silence as the train rattled along the tracks.

Was it still home if he was not there?

"Agent."

I blinked away the pain in my eyes, pulling down a mask. Barnes stared down at me, his features knitted in worry. "Are you okay?" he asked. I forced a half smile. "I'm fine. Come on, let's go."

Barnes stayed still as a statue behind me as I went on, focussing on the boat's entrance as a distraction. I could not think of Scotty again while around Barnes, otherwise I was at risk of losing it as I had done in the woods after the crash. Distractions were fatal. I had to erase him from my mind, act as though the thought of never seeing him again broke me inside. I could not repeat the mistakes I made with Kai. He was different to Scotty in more ways than one – he wasn't there for me like Scotty was – but losing him was a weight I carried with me for years after he left. I couldn't hold onto two losses. I just couldn't.

I brushed those thoughts away, breathing in the crisp air as Barnes and I approached the bridge. It had grown cold by the waterside, my releasing breath visible in a foggy wisp emanating from my chapped lips. I ran my tongue over them, softening them gently to taste the salty sea air.

"Hey!"

I jumped around at Barnes's shout, following his twisted line of sight.

He already had his gun out and loaded by the time I bore my own, shooting another wielder of a firearm in the chest.

Muttering a curse, I sped to a nearby alley, signalling for Barnes to follow while crouching down as low as possible. He pressed his back against the wall while I straightened myself up in a similar fashion, checking my ammo: eight bullets.

"Never a dull moment," he said. "How many bullets do you have left?" I asked. He checked. "Six. You?" "Eight." "Damn." Barnes chewed his bottom lip, watching the corner of the wall. "I think I only saw one more behind our friend. We should be good."

He craned his neck around the alley, jerking back and falling over as a dozen bullets rained down in his direction, chipping the bricks.

"There's a few more than one," he panted, resuming his earlier stance much tighter than before. "How many?" "Too many. Go!"

Barnes shoved me further down the alley, breaking me into a sprint. I had not spotted how many hostiles were upon us, but the bullets told me that number was significant. Besides, I trusted Barnes to be confident enough in our training that he would not make us run unless we really had to.

Our footsteps echoed as our feet pounded the ground. I grabbed the edge of the wall as we reached a corner, scraping my palms on the rough cement, nearly tripping on a drain.

I almost collided with a fence, and only just managed to skid to a stop.

"Oh f-f... fudge balls!" I cursed. My face dropped into a frown the moment I spoke them. I imagined the sedative from the hospital was still in my system. Barnes snorted and cracked up in laughter. "If there is anything I thought you would never say, it would be that." It was optimistic to hope he hadn't heard it. "A co-worker says it instead of swearing," I explained, referring to Gabby's list of odd curses. "But now we have another concern." I gestured to the ten-foot wire fence that stood before us, blocking the path to safety. "Concern?" Barnes snorted. "Oh, please."

He rolled up his sleeves, prepping himself for the climb with a smug grin. I looked up and down the fence. The wire was thick enough to climb but I needed to be swift so not to snap it. I wondered if my shoulder could have taken it, and did not want to embarrass myself by falling in front of him.

He had to go first, but he was waiting for me.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to climb?" "Patience is a virtue, my dear," he said. I clenched my jaw, rage starting to pent up. "Go now or I swear I will use you as a step ladder to hop over that fence and leave you behind to the bullets." "I'll see you on the other side, then."

He started to climb.

I made a mental note of where he put his hands and feet in the gaps of the mesh in order to copy his actions while following, ensuring that I did not slip up and drop to the pavement.

I gripped the wire, feeling the metal pinch my skin as I hoisted myself up, wedging my feet between the hexagonal holes. The fence swayed slightly under the weight of us both as we climbed, and I silently prayed it would hold. I looked up as I struggled to find another stable wire to grab onto, and my eyes widened in horror as I realised what I had come face to face with instead.

Barnes's arse.

My mind betrayed me in a second, finding it not so bad to look at. It was firm, fit well into his jeans and—

I cursed my brain and moved on swiftly.

"Are you looking at my arse, Miss Knight?" Oh no. My insides plummeted to the floor as though I had just swallowed a brick. "N-no," I, Agent Knight, stuttered. Stuttered. My cheeks turned red, as crimson as a spring rose, as I prayed that Barnes would not turn around.

He did.

"You look a bit flustered down there, agent," he cooed. "Do you want me to help you with that?" "Just..." I had no answer. No witty response of value crossed my mind. "Go," I hissed, giving up. "Just go." "Okay!" he hummed, gleefully swinging his leg over the fence. I scoffed as I followed, knowing how his mind would have processed that interaction.

After Barnes had dropped to the ground, I took my turn in swinging my leg over the metal bar that marked the top of the fence.

Whether it was the weakness in my shoulder, the painkillers that left me disorientated, or the heat that flooded my veins from the awkward moment with Barnes, I did not know. One of those things made me lose my footing.

I anticipated a brutal headbutt with the pavement but did not find it. Instead, I collided with something soft but steady, cushioning but firm, my hands clasping onto the collar of a jacket – Barnes's jacket.

Our heads bumped against one another when he caught me, but it did not hurt, our noses brushing delicately. The skin he touched was sensitive, and set my veins alight in a second, turning my limbs weak and warm, hands clammy as they tightened around the fabric pressed against his chest.

We both looked down at where my hands were positioned, raising our gaze steadily at the same time, locking eyes while his heart thundered beneath my touch, setting a pace for my own.

I coiled my fingers in, letting the fabric slip through my fingers. Barnes released a breath, hands lowering from the small of my back to the curve of my hip, eyes flicking through the pages of my features as though trying to read them. But the text was worn, wiped away by the reminder of who he was and who I was meant to be. I was an agent, and he was my target. "Sorry," I choked out. "Lost my footing." "Mmh," he murmured, narrowing his eyes. I stretched out my legs, feet touching the floor again, and clasped his wrists, removing them from my hips and releasing them at his side. He wouldn't stop looking, desperate to read on.

My voice was barely a whisper in the wintry coastal breeze. "Barnes, what is it?" He took a breath. "Agent, there's—" He exhaled, shaking as though searching for words. "There's something you need to know—"

The salty air cracked as a bullet fired behind Barnes. We dropped to the floor, covering our heads instinctively.

A multitude of bullets swarmed around us, leaving us sitting on the floor, pressed against the wall with shallow breaths and racing hearts caused by something running deeper than adrenaline. He needed to tell me something – of course the shooting would start now.

"They don't give up, do they?" Barnes gasped, trying to force a smile. My lips twitched at his humour, but we were stuck. There had to be a way out somewhere.

Barnes pointed up the wall and leapt up, jumping for the rusted ladder than hung beside him. "What are you doing?!" I hissed. "Trying not to get shot. It's as simple as that, Knight!"

I looked up. The ladder seemed slack, the metal rusted and flaking. It was a risk to climb it, and it reached very far, taking us to the roof of a three-storey apartment complex. Alistair's voice told me to say no – this man would do anything to get me killed and escape – but my own told me to fight the pull. Barnes, despite his flaws, would not have let me die.

I clasped his hand as if my life depended on it and began the climb, not hinting to Barnes that I caught his smile as I went.

We heaved ourselves up, careful not to misplace our footing or stomp so hard that the auburn metal cracked and broke beneath our step. The two of us made it without incident and stood side by side on the roof. The docks were in sight but still a distance away, and the roof did not offer much in terms of cover.

"Okay genius, what do we do now?" I asked sharply. "You're asking me? You're the agent!" He was also trained as one. "You suggested coming up here," I retorted. "Any more clever suggestions?" He laughed, huffing at my reply. "Did you just say that my suggestion was stupid, then ask for another one?" "I never said it was stupid." I only implied it. "You were being sarcastic." I shrugged bitterly. "Debatable." A frown. "But you're always sarcastic." "Never!" I exclaimed in a way that made Barnes roll his eyes. "So make a suggestion," I went on, serious now. "You're either an idiot or a genius based on your next decision." "Well then," he said, straightening his jacket with a smug grin. "I guess I better make the right decision. Can't have you thinking lower of me."

I pursed my lips as I scanned the nearby rooftops. The gaps between each building were too large – jumping across them was a bad idea. Climbing down was near impossible for the bullets flying at every angle.

"I've got it!" Barnes snapped his fingers. "How good are you at parkour?" My eyes widened; the gaps were too wide. "What?" "Parkour! We jump across the roofs. Are you ready?" Definitely not. "Barnes that is the first idea that I just ruled out. No!"

A bullet managed to scrape the dusty floor between us, separating us.

Barnes raised his voice. "Do you want to stay here?"

Holding my breath, I took another look at the gap between this building and the next. We needed a long run-up to even have a chance at surviving.

Exhaling, I took a few strides back, Barnes doing the same with a smile.

"Barnes," I said. "Yeah?" I braced for the run. "I hate you."

Pushing off with a heavy kick, I sprinted across the rooftop, dust flying in all directions as Barnes ran beside me. I timed the jump, ensuring that my left foot was as closest to the edge as possible to take the most efficient leap of faith.

My heart's pulses could be felt in every limb as I ran through the air, stretching my arms forward to reach for the fine thread that held my life, desperate to pull it back and hold close. Breathless, I kept reaching, and reaching.

And then I landed in the dirt, rolling once then halting in a crouched brace, coughing up the dust.

I heaved and coughed out the dirt, laughing through the breaths. "We made it," I mumbled. "Barnes—"

He was nowhere in sight – not in front nor behind me. I clambered to my feet, stumbling over the chipped and dusted terrain, and ran to the edge of the roof. "Barnes?" I called.

No reply. No sight of him. My chest tightened. "Barnes!"

I dared look over the edge, scowling at what I saw.

Barnes threw his head back in laughter, knuckles turning white as he clung onto a window ledge on the floor below.

"Concerned, agent?" he asked, batting his eyelashes. I glared. Everything about him remaining silent was intentional. I swore. "Just get up."

He reached for the ledge of the roof, yanking it back as a bullet missed it hand by an inch, bouncing off the piping.

The force of him pulling back of his hand swung him back, knocking him off balancing so he lost his hold on the window ledge. The whites of his eyes flashed, mouth dropping open as realisation struck harder than any bullet could.

He was falling to his death.

His arms flailed around frantically in a desperate search for survival as I watched him fall. It would only have been a second before I heard the agonising crunch of bone against the rock-hard pavement in the shadowed alley.

I had already dropped to my stomach before the thought hit me, and snatched his hand with an urgency I had never seen in myself before. I gasped as the weight of him threatened to rip through my shoulder but clung onto Barnes as though it was my own life hanging in the balance.

I heaved him up, arching into a crouch as I dragged Barnes over the ledge to safe, stable ground. I let go, falling on my back as I sighed in relief.

Barnes was panting as he leaned forward on his hands, arms shaking. I rolled over and pushed myself to my feet, catching Barnes staring at the floor with a dumbstruck face.

He angled his head towards me. "Y-you—?" "Come on," I said, brushing the dust off my thighs. "Why did you save my life?" His face contorted, confused as he stood up. "You hate me." "I..." I didn't. I wanted to – had tried to – but, even with Alistair's orders ringing in my ear, I couldn't. "We should go." "No. I want to know why—" "We need to go!" I snapped, jolting back as bullets scattered between us.

The ferry was close – I could see the entrance again from where I stood on the roof. Just one more jump – a shorter distance this time – then a swift climb down the ladder I spotted scaling the wall.

I shielded my eyes from the orange setting sun. "There's a ladder on the next roof," I said. "We could—" "Amber." I stiffened, twisting to face him. "No. Don't say my name again." "Why not?" He frowned. "It's just your name, Am—" "Don't," I growled, quieter. "Please." "Why?" He took a step towards me. "What's wrong with it?"

It was too close – too personal. Too friendly. I was expected to view a target as nothing more than an objective with no more life in it than the practice dummies we trained with. I'd done a perfect job of maintaining a neutral stance until I met Barnes. Even when we first met, he tugged on my anger, frustrating me in ways no other target had managed to do. But now it... it was different. He was not lifeless. He had his own strengths and flaws, interests and opinions I had been intrigued by, and a personality that, although infuriating at times, I had started to... get used to.

He was kind to me, and I did not deserve an ounce of it. I had treated him awfully and the guilt was already eating me up from the inside. Calling me by my name broke down a barrier that needed to remain to avoid disaster. If he referred to me as anything other than an expected enemy, I would have crumbled in handing him over to Alistair; to a life of confinement.

Cursing every thought, I turned away. If Alistair heard even a slither of my thoughts, he would have thrown me back into training. I couldn't do that – not again – so I had to sacrifice kindness and live with the guilt of handing him over to the gatekeeper of his solitary future.

I wiped myself from emotion and answered, "It's not professional."

Barnes shook his head, deciding my walk towards the ledge signalled the end of our discussion.

I took a swift look over the edge, noting we were alone. The disappearance of the hostiles raised alarm bells, but we had to keep going. The ferry was due to leave any minute.

We found them when we reached the next rooftop belonging to a DIY store. They lined up in front of the ferry, guarding the entrance. Even getting close to our way home would have had us shot and killed on sight.

"Damn," I said, looking around. There had to be some way around it they hadn't thought of. Barnes looked over his shoulder at the skylight leading downstairs. "Hang on," he said.

He opened up the glass and dropped inside, leaving me alone for a long minute before returning with two coils of rope swung over his shoulder.

"There's a large bin over there," he explained, handing me a coil. "One of us can move that bin across to the opposite alley as a distraction, using it as cover, while the other climbs up the side of the ferry using the rope. The one that gets up there first can start shooting from the ferry to give the other a chance to climb up."

It was a risk, but a worthy one. We needed to decide who took the role of a distraction and who would get out first.

Figuring the distraction was in the most immediate danger, I volunteered. "I'll move to the alley." "No chance. I'll do it," Barnes argued. I frowned. "Why can't I do it?" "You can, but with your shoulder injured it might be a safer choice for me to do it." A fair argument. "Alright."

I held onto Barnes's rope as he abseiled down the side of the alley, close to the bin. He tested the weight of it, flicking his thumbs up as it rolled with ease.

He clung onto his gun and crouched behind the bin. It rolled out from the darkness of the alley and bullets began to swarm. Stress weighed him down as he slowly moved from the alley, but he held his own against it, showing a resilience I could not help but admire as bullets fired his way, giving me a chance to move.

I scrambled down the ladder, rope looped over my shoulder, gun slotted in the back of my jeans, and bolted for the water, keeping as much distance between myself and the shooters as possible without wasting time.

I made it without any problems. After taking a short moment to check on Barnes – who was halfway down the street – I unravelled my coil of rope.

It came loose, and I quickly tied a loop on the end of the rope, taking a step back to calculate the distance it would take for it to reach the post along the balcony of the ferry.

I threw the coil – it missed, landing in the water. The second shot sprayed saltwater down the side of the ferry, missing it once more.

"Come on," I muttered, reeling it back in to the sound of gunshots. "Come on."

The next attempt made it, and I could not help but smile.

I tested the strength and hauled myself up, locking my legs around the rope. I shimmied up it until I reached the balcony. I rolled over the edge, flopping on the deck with a groan and sigh.

Now it was my turn to fight.

I jumped to my feet, firing a clean shot from my gun through the back of a hostile's skull.

Every single one of them turned to face me, their attention stolen from Barnes. I only had a few bullets to spare – he needed to be quick.

Having their focus, I ran down the balcony, pushed forward as the ferry started to move. I made a few shots with the bullets I had left, grazing a couple and knocking one down. Barnes was climbing out of their sight, anxiously flitting his eyes from side to side to ensure that every man had his eyes on me rather than him. I ducked behind the balcony when I was far enough away and, when I glanced back over it, I could no longer see Barnes.

Biting down the worry, I took another shot.

The trigger stuck – it was empty. "Damn."

Footsteps across the deck startled me. I eased when I found it was Barnes running towards me. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "Knight, it actually work—"

He dropped to his knees as the hostiles fired a round into the wall behind him. His smile stuck as he dropped next to me. "It actually worked!" He held out his palm. I stared at it, confused. "You know you want to," he said. Struggling to hide my growing smile, I slapped his hand with a high-five. Barnes's grin widened as he clasped my hand, squeezing it before swiftly letting go.

"I have an idea," he said, nodding towards the back of the boat. "Watch this." He scampered ahead while I followed, still crouched.

Barnes stood when he reached the back. "What are you doing?" I snapped. "They could shoot you." "The ferry's off and they're bad shots, anyway. Look at them!"

I stood beside him and nearly choked at the sight of the hostiles frantically waving their guns around to get a few final shots in to hit one of us, the bullets skipping across the water instead. Barnes snorted and broke into laughter. "I think that one's aiming for a little fish in the sea," he giggled.

I laughed at the hostile's reactions, with one of them stumbling over the edge of the dock. It was nice being on the right side of Barnes's humour for once.

Without warning, Barnes stood behind me and held my wrists in the air moving my arms back and forth wildly to wave, mocking the incompetent hostiles. I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile that burst into a fit of laughter as he made me mime a dance. He held me up to stop me from falling into the balcony, the strain of his laugh reaching his eyes.

The shooters gave up trying as the ferry drifted out to sea. Barnes let go of my arms but I held my smile, looking back at the docks as I tucked a wild strand of hair behind my ear, embracing the waves' crashing melody brushing against the boat with aching cheeks as the salty breeze beckoned me home.

A breathless laugh escaped Barnes. "I actually did it," he said, watching the sea roll against the shrinking pier. "Did what?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. Barnes smiled, his chestnut eyes gleaming in the amber glow of the setting sun. "I made you smile."