Cause I could. Enjoy.

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

Carter dropped the box down in front of the bedroom closet, her arms aching with the weight of it. Behind her, she heard a grunt and stepped back as her father walked into the room, a similar load in hand. He lowered it on top of her own and rolled his shoulders. With the addition of his box, there was now a wall before the closet with a small opening.

"Did you line those boxes with lead?" he asked, rotating his arm.

Carter smirked. "Getting weak in your old age, Captain?"

Scowling, her father wrapped an arm around her neck, rumpling her hair with his hand. Carter laughed feeling like she was sixteen again for just a moment. When her father was done with his display of annoyance, he released her. Hair fell loose from Carter's ponytail but she made no effort to fix it, it had been a mess before her father had gotten to it.

From the living room, they heard the murmur of voices and the thud of more boxes being added to the apartment. Already the place was a maze of them. The bedroom was crowded with pyramids of cardboard. A mattress leaned against the wall, waiting for its placement. Despite the mess, the floor to ceiling windows had been left clear, showing off the D.C. landscape.

Carter's father sighed and tossed his arms around his daughter's shoulders as if the finality of what they were doing was just hitting him. For a long while, the pair remained like that, looking over the beginnings of a new way of life. A new division between them that was hopeful as well as tinged with a sense of melancholy. Her father kissed her on the head and directed them back to the living room.

Maggie and Maddy were staring at the walls and gesturing, clearly already designing what the apartment's color scheme should be while Donovan and Link were leaning against the kitchen's granite island, talking. In a far corner were crammed a couch, armchairs, dining table and covered chairs. The rest of the room was littered with more boxes.

"Is the van emptied?" Carter's father asked.

Donovan nodded.

"Okay, Maggie and I will drive it back, leaving you two kids to get settled."

At the declaration, Maggie stored away her interior design plans. Carter hugged her father, feeling the weight of change.

"We'll see you tomorrow for dinner," he said. "Don't be late."

She smiled, reassured that somethings would stay the same. "We won't."

Maggie took her husband's spot, squeezing Carter affectionately.

"If you need help with decorating just let me know," she whispered in Carter's ear.

As Carter pulled back, she smiled. "We will most likely take you up on that offer."

Steve shook Donovan's hand and nodded to Link, then took Maggie's hand and left. When Maddy took the spot by Link's side, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"It feels weird to not have you living next door," he said.

"Then maybe you should take the apartment across the way," Carter said.

Maddy laughed. "Don't tempt us, our current apartment is less than desirable, but for now it's the most affordable." She tilted her head up to Link. He kissed her as if always looking for an excuse to do so. "We should head back." She winked at Carter. "We don't want to ruin your first night."

With farewells and promises to come help paint or rearrange furniture, the couple left. Carter turned to the living room, taking in the whole space, the wall of windows, the high ceiling, the beige carpet, and the bare walls that were waiting for framed memories. At the silence and unfamiliarity of it all, she felt a twist in her stomach. She swallowed, trying to banish the budding thoughts in her mind.

As she stood there, Donovan slid his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.

"It's strange," she said. "Even with the papers signed and filed it doesn't feel like our apartment."

Donovan kissed her neck, then shoulder.

"Well then why don't we break it in?" he said, his breath warm on her skin.

For a heartbeat, Carter hesitated, something coiling in her chest. Though it was barely noticeable, Donovan stopped kissing her, his hold tightening.

"What is it?" he asked.

Carter spun around and laced her arms around his neck, hating that her body had betrayed a fraction of her thoughts. This was not a night to give in to them.

"Nothing," she said with a smile. "Let's break it in."

She kissed him, her fingers snaking into his hair. Before she could go further, Donovan disentangled himself from her.

"No no no," he said. "This is our first night, in our first apartment, I'm not having you lie to me. What's going on?"

Carter settled her hands on her hips as if something in the stance could contradict the niggling feelings growing in her chest. Donovan narrowed his eyes at her.

"What's going on?" he asked. He brushed a thumb over her cheek, the caress comforting. "Carter, there is nothing you could say that would make me feel any different about you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So what's going on?"

Carter took in a breath and let it out slowly, drawing in her strength.

"I'm terrified," she said, her voice controlled as if that could downplay the truth of her words.

Donovan waited, letting the silence encourage her to continue. It worked.

"This is so much of what I've always wanted." She placed a hand on his chest. "I have you and I never want to lose you. And yet..." She took in another breath as if it would calm the emotions that had gnawed at her for years. "I'm scared that somehow we will end up like my parents and I will lose all of this. I will lose you."

Instead of jumping in right away to reassure her, Donovan was quiet, taking it all in. It was his lack of quick encouragement that made Carter feel as if he was fully understanding the weight of her past and the history she was afraid to repeat.

"I understand," he said. "But I also know that we've taken steps to not repeat what happened." He cupped her face. "We waited, got married, then moved in together. Already our story is different. I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. I have no intention of ever losing you no matter what we might face."

There was a certainty in his voice that said he would dive into the depths of hell to save her if need be. She let out another breath, letting his words soothe the fears. Though as they retreated Carter could feel them hiding away for another day.

She rested her forehead against Donovan's.

"Will I ever get past these fears?" she whispered.

Donovan laced his fingers with hers.

"They might never go away," he said. "They are a part of how you came to be. But I believe with time they lose their strength."

Carter closed her eyes, willing it to be true.

"I'm a mess," she said.

Donovan traced circles on the back of her hand.

"Yes," Donovan said. "But I like that you are a mess."

Surprised, Carter jerked back, staring at him. He laughed, the sound warm with affection.

"It sounds strange but it helps me see that you're not perfect." At this Carter cocked one eyebrow, warning him he was walking into dangerous territory. "Because if you're not perfect. I don't have to be either. I'm scared too."

Carter gave him a disbelieving look. Scared and her husband didn't seem to match.

"I'm serious," Donovan said. "Carter, I'm been living on my own for twelve years. There are habits I've created over the years and part of me doesn't know what I'll be like living with you. I'm scared I'll be controlling on the smallest things. I don't want to be demanding but I fear I will be."

Carter laughed. She laughed because more than his reassurance about her past it was this admittance that helped her not feel alone. Donovan frowned.

"I mean it," he said.

Still chuckling, Carter kissed him and she felt his frown melt in response.

"I know you are and I love you for it. Just know that I'm not going to run away cause you get mad at me for not washing the dishes the right way or making my bed with military corners."

Donovan caught onto the mood change and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"But military corners are the foundation of a stable household system," he murmured, breathing her in.

When Carter laughed again, it vibrated between them.

"You mock, but I have years of data that show this is true," he said, his lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

"Well then, as long as you teach me each system shirtless, I'm willing to learn."

Donovan chuckled. "That seems like it would be very distracting for you."

"Then you will just have to repeat the lesson."

He kissed her. "Okay, let's begin."

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

An explosion of shattering glass jerked Carter out of sleep. Wide awake, she rolled off the mattress, retrieved the gun by the side of the bed, and rose to her feet. Donovan's shirt covered her to the top of her thighs, her sleep shorts peaking out beneath it. When she looked across the way, she found Donovan in a pair of sweatpants, gun raised. He nodded at her, then took a step towards the closet door.

They had left it open, giving themselves enough space to see the bedroom beyond. Stepping over their rumpled sheets, Carter took up a spot just behind Donovan's shoulder. Beams of searching flashlights cut across the darkened interior.

"I make out four assailants," Carter whispered in Donovan's ear.

He nodded once in agreement. Without a word, he motioned for her to go left and he would go right. She touched his bare shoulder in answer. Easing the door open, they slipped out, protected by the wall of boxes. The door let out a soft whine. Carter and Donovan looked at each other and then dropped down.

The world was ripped apart with a volley of gunshots. The air thundered with the sound as bullets tore into the boxes. Bits of cardboard were shredded and sent cascading through the air. As sections were torn to pieces the metal lining of the boxes were revealed. Carter and Donovan waited, crouched down, bearing the deafening noise and the rain of debris.

When the hurricane of bullets paused, magazines emptied, they pair sprung into action. They aimed through the opening of their barricade and fired. One attacker fell instantly, while the other three took cover, their guns left empty. Donovan dove to the right and Carter sprinted to the left.

The gunman raised his weapon, but Carter had already sent a bullet his way. It ripped into his shoulder and he cried out, tumbling backward. There was a crash from the living room and Carter slipped out of the bedroom.

Back to the wall, she edged down the small hallway. Peering around the corner, she found three men pushing over boxes, searching. Annoyance at the mess they were making darted through Carter. Shoving aside the useless thought, she aimed at one of the men. The second the shot was fired and the man had crumbled, the other two spun on her and started shooting. She twisted back, the wall acting as protection.

Bullets bit into the plaster, showering her with dust. To her right, a pyramid of boxes was positioned just perfectly. Crouching down, she used the pile as a shield, slipping across the path to the kitchen, where she hid behind the island. As she waited for the firing to end, she tried not to think about the repair bill and how these men were unlikely to be paying it.

When the opening came, she wasted no time. She popped up and took down one of the gunmen, the other diving behind a stack of bins labeled with 'pots and pans'. Ducking down again, Carter made her way to the other side of the kitchen. From the other room, she heard something breaking and spared a thought for the lamp on the bedside table, a gift from Maggie.

In the living room, the smell of gun smoke permeated the air. The moon cut into the room through the now empty windows. The silvery light caught on the dust drifting over the place. The silence was taut with tension as Carter edged towards a pile of crates.

In her chest, her heart thumped steadily, nerves humming, alert. Every whisper of sound was magnified in her ears. The carpet was cool and soft beneath her bare feet. The thickness muffled her footsteps as she slipped from one shelter to the next.

As she was sneaking a glance around a crate of books, the muzzle of a gun appeared. She grabbed the handle and yanked hard. The attacker was jerked forward and Carter slammed her elbow into his nose. There was a sharp crack as the bone broke and blood gushed from the extremity.

Dazed, the man tried to swing at her, but she blocked it with her forearm while delivering a knee to his side. Using the moment of disorientation to her advantage, she jumped onto his back, hooking her feet around him and choking off his air with her arm.

The assailant tried to flip her off, but her hold around his middle was too strong. Stumbling around, he found a wall and slammed her into it. A flash of stars exploded in Carter's head, but she held on, squeezing with all her might. When the man smashed her against the wall again, the force was weaker. He wobbled, then fell to his knees. Carter rolled off him as he faceplanted into the carpet.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, she snatched up her dropped gun and raised it. The room was quiet. The night was chilly but sweat curled along Carter's neck. Slowly, she made her way around the room. One of the shots she had fired had been fatal and the second had found the man's stomach. He laid curled up, one hand pressed to his bleeding wound. When Carter nudged him with her foot, gun leveled at his head, he managed to look up at her.

"Who sent you?" she asked.

The pain in his eyes wasn't strong enough to mask the pure determination there. Knowing there would be no answers from him, she knocked him unconscious. When she pushed up his shirt sleeve she found an intricate clubs tattoo standing out against his pale skin. Sighing, Carter angled the gunman onto his back.

"I should kill you for bleeding on my carpet," she said.

Shaking her head, she walked back into the bedroom. Donovan was studying the gunman that lay unconscious or dead in front of him. Seeing that he was still alive, Carter ducked back into the closet and found her phone. The line rang for a second before a deep voice picked up.

"What is it?"

"Deputy Townsend," Carter said. "It's agent Owens. We were right, there is a mole."

"What happened?" Townsend asked, sounding awake.

"A hit squad from the O'Neill crime family attacked us in our apartment. The change of address was only filed today, someone must have been keeping an eye on it."

Carter looked at Donovan and mouthed, 'zip ties?' Nodding, he went digging through boxes. Finding them, he handed her some and went to tie up the men still breathing.

"Are you hurt?" Townsend asked.

Carter waved a hand like this was a pointless question.

"We're fine, but the gunman aren't. We will need medics, a clean up crew, and new windows," she said, bending over one of the attackers and binding his legs and wrists.

"I'll send them over. Write up a report and we'll talk over next steps tomorrow," Townsend said.

"Understood, sir."

Carter tossed her phone onto the counter and found the bleeding man. She bound him as well. When she turned around, Donovan was gazing around the mess. Carter's eyes caught onto a detail she had missed earlier, his left side was bleeding.

"You're hurt," she said, crossing to him.

Donovan glanced down like he hadn't even noticed the injury.

"Oh, that. The fight ended up with me in contact with the glass-covered floor."

Even in the dim light, Carter could see shards buried in Donovan's skin.

"Wait here," she said. "I'm going to see if I can find something to take care of this."

She entered the main bathroom with little hope of finding anything useful. The spacious area had remained untouched by the attack, the tile, and porcelain still spotless. Out of place in the bare room was the first aid box that sat atop a counter of drawers. Attached to the outside was a post-it note.

Knowing you two and the trouble you get into I figured you would need this. Love Maggie.

Carter laughed as she read the note.

"Donovan!" she called out.

When Donovan entered, Carter was able to see the true extent of his wounds in the full light of the bathroom. Her laughter fell away.

"Sit here," she said, tugging him over to the counter by the sink. He hoisted himself on top.

For a second, all Carter could do was stare at the mass of blood that was smeared across his skin. Before she could get caught in a web of panic and fear, Donovan spoke.

"I know it's hard to resist, but I'm going to bleed to death if you continue to ogle me."

The statement severed any thoughts that could attack Carter's heart. She looked up at Donovan, expression flat. He winked, which made her laugh. Though he had joked, Carter was made aware of exactly what she could get lost in. He was all dark skin and defined muscles.

Shaking herself, she snapped open the first aid kit. After she cleaned the blood away, the damage lost all its look of severity. Letting out a relieved breath, she grabbed the tweezers.

"I need to you keep your arm out of the way," she said.

Balancing herself with one hand pressed against his abdomen, she reached for the first piece of glass. It plinked as she dropped it in the sink. As she went to remove another shard, Donovan rested his hand on the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing the skin at her hairline. All of Carter's focus fell away. Scowling, she looked up to find Donovan grinning wolfishly at her.

"Now you're the reason you're going to bleed out if you keep doing that," she said.

"Worth it," he said, leaning down and kissing her.

Smiling, Carter shoved his chest. "I don't think so. Now stay still."

Still grinning like he had won something, Donovan rested his arm on the top of his head. In the end, twelve blooded glass pieces were lying in the sink. After putting bandages over the cuts, Carter cleaned the tweezers and tossed them back into the kit.

"All done," she said.

"Don't you know you're supposed to kiss it to make it feel better?" he asked, his voice serious though the glint in his eyes was anything but.

He snaked his arms around her, pulling her close. Before they could get carried away, Carter cupped Donovan's face, holding him back.

"We have a cleanup crew on the way, I'm not sure I want to build another reputation at the bureau," she said.

"What?" Donovan kissed her jaw. "That you have trouble keeping your hands off your husband?" He smiled into the next kiss.

"Yes."

As she kissed him, she slipped from his grasp, leaving him leaning forward.

"We need to get dressed."

"I like this look on you," Donovan said.

Carter imagined he would, her hair was in disarray, she wore his shirt, short sleep shorts, and most of her skin was exposed. She crossed her arms, sticking one leg out the side, showing off more of her thigh.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, challenging. Donovan's eyes made their slow way down her body in answer. "Then I guess I'll stay like this for the cleanup crew."

Instantly, Donovan's face darkened. Carter raised a taunting eyebrow.

"Let's get dressed," he said. "I'm sure