Alright! It is the chapter you've asked for, the one where Carter falls asleep on Donny boy's couch! I warn you its flippin butts long!

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The sound of crowded streets died away as Donovan turned the car into a dim parking structure beneath his apartment building. After he pulled into a spot, he cut the engine and Link reached for his bag, already moving to leave. There was no sound from the back seat and Donovan twisted back. Carter sat with her eyes glued to the world outside but seemed unable to see it. Donovan gripped the passenger seat, hating the way she seemed so unlike herself.

"Carter," he said, gently.

Blinking, she looked at him as if realizing they had stopped. Without a word, they both pushed their doors open and stepped out into the chilly parking garage. The sound of doors slamming shut bounced off the concrete walls and floor. After a brief elevator ride, the doors dinged open on the familiar hallway and Link led the group to his apartment.

The faint smell of orange scented cleaner lingered in the air and Donovan figured the cleaning lady had just left. The light of the late afternoon sun streamed into the apartment and fell across the floor, elongating the shadows.

Link took off his glasses and tossed them onto a table beside the door. Donovan had seen the same action for years, each time it was like Link became fully himself. Carter made a slow circle, really taking in the apartment. Needing to stop himself from watching her every move and trying to decipher her thoughts, Donovan moved past her and settled his bag down on the ground near the couch. As he took out the paper he was writing for his college psychology class and the work he had to do for calculus, Carter spoke, but it wasn't to him.

"Do whatever you normally do," she said to Link. "I'm fine."

"I was going to take a shower and change real quick," he said, his voice hesitant.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Link moved to the hallways but paused.

"Eat anything you want," he said. "There's not much in the fridge, but I think we have something."

"Thanks."

With another nod, he left. Donovan felt Carter focus on him and then away to the row of framed photos on the table below the TV. She moved over and picked up the closest one, examining it. Unable to help himself, Donovan raised his eyes to her. The photo was of Link and his mother when he was younger. Carter studied it like she was seeing how much Link truly looked like his father.

Setting down the picture, she picked up a new one. Slowly, she continued moving down the table, looking at the pieces of Link's life. At the end of the table was a photo Donovan knew she would stop at. It was of Link and him, standing side by side at Link's 8th-grade promotion.

Donovan remembered that day clearly. Link had been giddy with excitement because after the ceremony they were going to see his father for a very private dinner. After two years of working to be more than a nuisance to Link, it was a day when he had acted as if Donovan was simply a friend and not some weight holding him down. Not waiting for her to get there, he forced himself to fall back into the task before him. Minutes slipped by and Carter kept up her quiet observations.

"You look young," she said, breaking the silence.

Donovan looked up.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Carter held the frame up and looked back at him. He studied it for a moment. He was young and at the same time so old. The world around him had been crowded with kids barely beginning to know who they were while he was already tossed into a job that would take away years of his life. Not wanting to think of it, Donovan nodded and focused his attention back down at his work.

"I was," he said.

He flipped open a textbook, rifled through the pages and then started writing out equations, hating that the homework didn't take up more brain power. As he worked he was all too aware of Carter's presence. Sensing as she put the picture back and looked over the last remaining ones.

"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.

The question made Donovan pause for a fraction of a second. The source of his regret was standing before him. Someone so close and yet out of reach. Though if he had never said yes, their paths would never have crossed.

"No," he answered.

Carter faced him, something determined in the movement, but what she was going to say never came because Link appeared, toweling his hair. Feeling as if he might have given something away, Donovan purposely ignored the pair as they talked about the photos and the future.

It was only when a murmur of voices grew louder that Donovan allowed himself to look up. Link's mother walked in, dressed in a trim business suit. Behind her, a group of men and women followed. The men's suits were in varying degrees of untidiness. Monica waved them in and looked back at the trio in her living room. A warm smile crossed her face as her eyes landed on Link.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Sorry to barge in here but something was going on with the heating in the office so we decided to finish up here."

"It's fine," Link said.

Donovan flipped his textbook closed and stood up. "We'll move to my apartment, Monica."

She looked at him and smiled. "I appreciate that."

Over the years her desire to mother Donovan had vanished. In its place, a mutual respect had grown alongside a joint desire to protect Link from any form of harm.

As Donovan began to pack up, Monica shared a brief exchange with Link and Carter. A gruff voice eventually called to her. The group left the apartment, the noise of arguing voices dying down behind them. At his door, Donovan pulled out his keys and unlocked three different locks before letting them in.

As he stepped inside, he automatically reached for the lights, flicking them on. Link headed for the dining table positioned behind the living room arrangement, but Carter remained in the doorway. Donovan hung up his keys on a small hook and joined Link.

"You live here?" Carter asked, her gaze still roaming over the living room and kitchen, expression surprised.

"Yeah, why?" Donovan asked, looking at her.

"It's not what I expected," she said. "Not that I gave much thought to the matter."

He looked over the apartment as if seeing it the way she was, as he had his first day like it had come from a magazine. Now it was simply home. A home he had grown accustomed to over the last six years of his life.

"What were you expecting? A mattress on the ground and a water canteen?" he asked, his lips twitching at a smile, wondering what thoughts Carter had spared for him and his living situation.

"Not exactly, but not a setup from Ikea."

Donovan nodded to Link. "Monica actually had all this," he twirled his finger, "done. I think she felt sorry I was living on my own at sixteen and wanted to make it feel homier in a way."

"So it would have been a mattress and a water canteen if she hadn't helped."

"Maybe a gun case and a couple computers with video surveillance," he said, smiling, liking the way her face relaxed as she teased him.

A smile tugged at her mouth, giving Donovan hope that she was returning to herself. As she set her bag down onto the oak table with theirs, Link's phone rang. He pulled it out, hint of color coming to his face. The expression on his face told Donovan exactly who was calling. Looking at Donovan, Link stepped away from the table.

"Mind if I borrow your room?" he asked.

Donovan nodded and Link answered the phone.

"Hey," he said, in a tone that confirmed Donovan's guess.

His voice trailed off as he walked down the hallway and closed the door. Carter surveyed the living room. Donovan watched her as she found the wall of photographs. The corner of his mouth curled up.

"Do you want my life story as well?" he mocked, though he truly wanted to know if she cared to know more about him or not.

She pointed to the frames. "Do you mind?"

He hesitated for a second, suddenly wondering if it was actually a good idea to let her know more about him. Knowing it might cause more curiosity if he said no, he leaned back in his chair, shrugging. She walked across the apartment and paused before the first photo. It was the one Donovan glanced at the most, his family and him.

"I didn't know you were the runt of the family," Carter said.

Donovan's jaw flexed reflexively at the insult, remembering how long it had taken him to drop most of his weight and how hard it had been to be so much smaller than his older brothers. Carter dropped her head, then looked back at him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You just are so much smaller than them."

He gave a single nod.

"That was right after I got the job with Link and lost twenty pounds of muscle."

She stared at him, shocked. "You lost twenty pounds of muscle?"

"I had to, I needed to look like a middle schooler, if not a more fit middle schooler."

Carter gave an impressed nod and turned back to the photos. Finding it more difficult than he expected to watch Carter take in whom he used to be, he reached for his homework. His resolve to not look over at her was snapped when she let out a laugh.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he joined her. A flicker of a smile betrayed him, as he looked at the photo before her. It was the one of his mother and him, her face smashed against his young one. Despite the six years of practice, Donovan missed seeing her. It had been months since he had last talked to her in person.

"What's the story here?" Carter asked.

Donovan crossed his arms, still staring at the picture, part of him unable to look at her and share his past. Years of keeping his life secret had built a barrier around him and he found it hard to get through.

"My mother said this photo summed me up."

For a long moment that was all, he could get out. Inside his mind, he raged a war against wanting to let Carter in and not wanting to give himself away to someone else. Carter said nothing, letting the choice be his. Donovan slid his hands into his pockets.

"I was a difficult kid," he finally said. "She said I was as stubborn as a mule and as talkative as a clam."

Carter looked at him and he met her gaze, seeing her puzzlement.

"A clam?" she said.

He gave a single nod, a hint of a smile sitting in the edge of his mouth as memories of being with his mother came back.

"Sometimes when I was struggling with a problem, the only way to get me to talk about it was to use force and pry it out of me. It was a contrast to the rest of the time when I talked freely."

A slow smile took over Carter's face.

"Does that still stand?" she asked.

He shook his head, but it was a lie. James still had the habit of using force to get him to talk. As Carter continued down the line of pictures, she made no comment. Something held Donovan to his spot. With each photo, she passed he felt memories and stories come to mind. Things he could share with her, but he didn't.

A specific photo stopped her in her tracks. It was of him when he was fifteen and had one foot on James as he was on the ground. She glanced at him but remained silent. In her eyes, he could see her quietly asking for the story behind the photo, but letting the option to give it or not be his. When Carter moved on he spoke, the words coming out before he could stop them.

"It was the first time I beat James in hand to hand combat," he said.

She looked back. "James is..."

"Two years older than me. Then it's Clint and Brock. We're all two years apart."

Carter nodded and turned towards him.

"What do they do?" she asked.

Donovan couldn't see any harm in something so basic.

"Brock works at the FBI. Clint is on security detail for a senator and James works with a private security company."

"Do they know about Link?" she asked.

He gave a single nod. "They would have asked too many questions when I went to middle school after already graduating high school."

She accepted this answer without question. There was something about her, about the way she didn't push at him to talk that made him want to. To let her be the bridge that connected his two lives. But he still had a job and in less than a year Carter might be somewhere else, so he said nothing. Instead, he took a step back, needing distance to clear his mind.

"If you're fine, I'm going to take a shower and change," he said.

"I'm fine. Thanks...for sharing."

With a nod, he left the living room. Link glanced up as Donovan entered his room, but Donovan waved at him, letting know he was fine as he grabbed clothes. After a quick shower, Donovan walked back into the living room. What he found made him pause.

Carter had fallen asleep on his couch. Even as he moved closer, she didn't stir. Her breathing was heavy and she looked...content. Asleep, with her expression untroubled Donovan, was struck with how beautiful she was. Her lips were barely parted, her breath slipping out. The longer he watched her, the more he found himself liking the sight of her asleep in his apartment, on his couch.

The thought jolted him and he took a step back, fighting his own mind. Needing to get away, he hurriedly gathered his work and walked to his room. It was only when he heard the low laugh of Link that he was reminded of why he couldn't go in there. Frustrated, Donovan his hand through his hair. Letting out a breath, he returned to the table, hoping that the back of the couch would be high enough to obstruct his view of Carter's sleeping form.

For the most part, the couch did its job, but as Donovan tore through his work, burying his thoughts under mounts of information, he was still aware of her. If she stirred, mumbled, or even breathed differently, he glanced up, each time berating himself for doing so.

It was a relief when Link opened his door. Rushing forward, Donovan pressed his finger to lips to keep Link from waking Carter. Frowning, Link looked to the couch and then nodded in understanding.

"How long has she been out?" he whispered.

"About an hour."

"Okay, well I'm hungry, you want to get something to eat?"

"Chinese?"

"Sounds good to me."

***************

By the time they were done eating, Monica was finished and Link headed back to his place. With Link's absence, the apartment felt too small, like every breath Carter took filled up the entire space. Or maybe it was simply that it took up every thought of Donovan's. Struggling to keep his mind from running down a path he knew he couldn't go, he went to his room.

Having only one solution to his dilemma, he dropped to the floor, falling into a fast round of push-ups. The pace woke up his muscles and cleared his mind. The more he pushed himself, the easier it became to will all his emotions away. Opposite to his training, he didn't ignore the ache that slowly developed in his arms, but focused on it, letting it be the only thing he thought of.

When he finally felt in control again, he stopped and laid back in the cool floor, staring up at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. A sense of calm came over him and he let his surroundings filter back. It was then the muffled ringing of a phone registered.

Getting up, he left his room in search of his phone. It was only when he was back in the living room that he was aware that it wasn't his phone ringing. It went silent and Carter remained unaffected by it, still asleep. Not wanting to wake her, Donovan collected her phone and went back to his room. He worked in relative peace, the exertion helping realign his thoughts.

When Carter's phone went off an hour later, he checked the screen. Besides the second call from her father, there were almost multiple texts as well. Knowing he would have to, and hating it, all the same, Donovan went back into the living room to wake Carter up.

A piece of hair had fallen into her face, and he restrained himself from gently brushing it back. Instead, he said her name. At the sound of his voice, Carter's lips twitched.

"Carter," he repeated louder this time.

She stirred, but when she remained asleep, he gently shook her shoulder.

"Carter," Donovan said, again.

Carter's lashes fluttered open and blue eyes focused on him. For a second Donovan wanted this sight to be something he saw again. Then startled, Carter jerked away, shattering Donovan's thoughts. Instantly, he released her and held up his hands.

"Hey, you're fine," he said, his voice calming. "You just fell asleep on my couch."

After she looked around, she put her head in her hands, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Right," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Donovan said, settling on to the edge of his coffee table.

She lowered her hands, and Donovan felt his heart grow heavy at the weariness he saw returning. As if able to sense this, she looked away.

"I woke you because your father called twice and texted."

He held at her phone. Taking it, she glanced at the message and then stood abruptly.

"I didn't realize I slept so long."

Donovan made no comment as Carter quickly gathered her bag. As she slung her bag over her head, he collected his keys. Blindly moving to leave, she sent off a text. It was only when Donovan opened the door, that she became aware of him following her out. He finished locking his apartment and found Carter staring at him.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'll take the metro home."

Donovan tucked his keys into his pocket along with his hands and looked at her with a frank expression. Their gazes battled but Donovan's stubbornness won out. There were a lot of reasons he told himself why he wanted to drive her home so much. All of them were rational, she was tired, worn out and didn't look as if being alone was a good thing. But none of them were the real reason.

A reason he wouldn't let himself admit, he simply wanted to stay with her a little bit longer.

With an amused smile, she walked towards the elevators.

"Thanks," she said.

Donovan nodded beside her.

"Where's Link?" she asked, as they rode down.

"Monica finished up right after we had dinner and he went back to his place."

"What have you been doing the last few hours?"

"I was working in my room. I only came out when I heard your phone going off."

Carter pulled a hand through her hair.

"I didn't even hear it," she said.

She absentmindedly ran her fingers through the tangled strands, bringing back a semblance of order to it. As she shook it out, Donovan's gaze darted over. There was a wildness about it that he hadn't seen before but liked the look of. When she caught his stare, he fought for control and simply turned away, hating his weakness.

In silence, they got into the car and drove, but there was something comfortable about. Donovan pulled into the alleyway and edged the car down the narrow lane, stopping outside Carter's apartment. She reached for her door.

"It might have nothing to do with you, Carter," he said, sensing her unease that had suddenly appeared.

She turned back to him.

"Thank you, for everything." She let out an embarrassed chuckle. "And for the use of your couch."

His lips twitched at a smile and he dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"Goodnight, Carter."

"Night,