Chapter Text
Ethan stopped and took off his scarf and goggles in front of Ilsa’s seemingly lifeless body. It could not be. His brain refused to even process the possibility she had been shot dead. He moved to check on her, still breathless, his heart beating furiously in his chest due to the rush of adrenaline of the recently ended fight. He was alert, unsure whether some of the bounty hunters were still around.
Before he could realize it he was hitting the ground hard, Ilsa had tricked him believing he was one the men sent to kill her. In a whirlwind of bodies and sand he felt her on him, she grabbed his arm and slammed it hard against the floor to disarm him and he had to let go of the machine-gun he was holding.
“Wait! Ilsa!”
Ethan managed to drape an arm around her neck trying to stop her. She didn’t hear him while turning in haste to instead get hold of the knife in her pocket to defend herself.
“Ilsa! Wait wait wait!”
He had her knife pointing at the side of his head. He had one last shot.
“It’s me!”
She heard him, and probably realised that despite the arm around her throat this man was not trying to hurt her. She gasped in surprise, let go of her knife and rolled away from him just to weight on her forearms and look at his face.
Blue met green. Wind was spiralling sand around them, they could still hear shotguns coming from the outside, but the desert’s sunlight was tinging the air with an orange glow and everything stood still when their eyes met.
He saw surprise, relief, but also scare in her light blue eyes.
She saw relief, hope and a tinge of frustration in his green irises.
Ethan was so close, because she was still literally resting on top of him. His hands went straight to her face, fingers brushing her usually soft skin, which the desert air had dried mercilessly.
“It’s ok.”
He whispered it and she abandoned herself to his embrace, locking her arms around his shoulders, because he was there with her, he had found her when she had felt most alone, and she had missed him dearly in the months they had been apart. She felt him relax into their shared hug, some of the tension of the chase and the earlier commotion was leaving his body. She felt his breath caress the sensitive skin of her ear when he exhaled, and it tickled but she did not move.
Ethan took the moment to reassure himself she was safe in his arms.Then he saw the half key hanging from her neck and he held it with the point of his fingers, but his eyes never left hers.
“What are you doing here? Why do you have this? Why are you still doing this? Why can't you just stay away from trouble?” It were all silent questions Ethan was asking through his gaze, but to Ilsa’s ears they sounded as clear as if he had actually spoken them out loud.
“Forgive me, I could not just sit this one out. There is so much at stake. This is worse than anything we have ever faced.” Ethan was reading her answer through her frightened eyes and he was not liking it the least. But that was neither the time nor the place.
They camouflaged the scene, swapped Ilsa’s clothes for those of the lady bounty hunter and set everything on fire to cover up any trace of an escape.
Ilsa jumped on a horse while wind and sand were hauling furiously around her. She could barely see and could not hear anything else but the sound of a shooting gun. She tried to keep the horse still as she was waiting for Ethan to join her so they could run away. But he had other plans.
Ethan drew closer and placed something in her hand. She could not see what it was but held onto it tightly. His hand moved to her neck while she grasped his arm.
“Wait for me there! And listen to me, you are dead, stay dead!”
“Ethan wait!”
But the sandstorm engulfed him once more and her words got lost in the wind.
She had thousand questions, but she trusted him with her life. As she rode off into the sunset she had one thought: “And you stay alive!”
It was around midday when Ethan entered the safe house in the Balad area. Downtown Amman was a chaotic mix of businesses and people, a good place to hide, although a difficult one to make a quick escape from. These were his thoughts as he was walking in the small apartment with uttermost cautious, never too sure these days that old semi- abandoned safe houses were indeed safe.
However, as he turned the handle of the last door at the end of the corridor he realised not everyone shared his concerns. Ilsa was sound asleep on the queen size bed placed against the wall on the left of the door. She was lying above the covers, the heat was a suffering he too felt tough to bear. As his eyes lingered on her figure he noticed she was wearing only a t-shirt and her underwear, he felt his face growing warmer and closed the door not to intrude her privacy. His steps hadn’t woken her, neither had the click of the door opening, she must have been truly exhausted. It wasn’t a surprise, considering she had been alone on the run for days and had probably never caught any sleep, afraid of been found unconscious, unprepared and get killed before even realising it.
Ethan sighted. He had sent her here almost three days before. It must have taken her at least a day to get to the house, and a few hours to ascertain she was safe, and actually out of any radar, before she had allowed herself to get some rest. A part of him wanted to wake her straight away, because he had just about a few pressing questions on how exactly she came to have that key, bud he decided to indulge her and hope she could recover from her exhaustion. He would get some food, and they would speak later.
Lunch time went by, and so did tea time, as she would refer to it, but Ilsa slept on. By then Ethan had eaten, double checked the apartment, got a pretty decent idea of the best escape route, should the need arise, taken a shower and even found time for a quick nap on the living room sofa, which was a generous way to describe that cranky and very uncomfortable piece of furniture. The sun was disappearing behind the buildings and lights were switching on in the town when Ethan, resolute he could not wait any longer, marched towards the bedroom.
He approached the bed where Ilsa was still deep in her slumber. He almost felt reluctant to disturb her dreams to bring her back to a world of chaos, but the time they had was running out, and he needed answers. His eyes wandered to her face, she seemed peaceful, not a trace of the hunted and anguished look she bore in the desert. She had a lock of her light brown hair, which had fallen onto her face and he felt the impulse to move it behind her ear. He bent forward and ran his fingertips along her cheek.
In the blink of an eye, he was lying on the bed, with Ilsa’s straddling him and pressing a knife to his throat.
“Ilsa!” He hissed out of breath. “You really need to start working on your trust issues.”
“Ethan, my goodness! Wouldn’t you think I slept armed, given the circumstances, would you?” She brought a hand to her mouth trying to suppress a yawn, and then passed it on her eyes to erase the signs of the heavy sleep she had been enjoying and was now fully focused on him. “What the hell were you thinking in waking me up like that?!”
Instead of hearing a detailed answer Ilsa saw his cheeks tinging of a pink shade and a soft smile appear on his lips. And then his hand was caressing her cheek lovingly.
“I am sorry, you are right…I … wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t resist.”
Ilsa was waiting for him to make a joke that would lighten the mood but his eyes told her otherwise, and she figured he was very serious, if his hand still stroking the side of her face was not enough of an indication. So it was on her.
She laughed lightly. “What can I say? There really are better ways to wake up a woman Ethan.” She grinned mischievously bur her smile died on her lips as Ethan, grown fully aware of the position they had ended up in, decided to take it to his advantage and placed his hands on her hips.
He was looking at her face and saw her eyes darken and her lips parting slightly as he sneaked a hand under her t-shirt and caressed her soft, warm skin. He felt her hands fisting the t-shirt on his chest, he saw his eternal internal debate mirrored in her eyes. They couldn’t, not now, well technically they could, but it would not have been right yet. He wanted her, and if her laboured breathing was of any indication, so did she, but neither of them wanted to cross that threshold yet.
He saw a hint of fear appearing on her face and he immediately stopped what he was doing, he did not want to play with her feelings, although he was convinced were mutual, but still…
“Come here.” He tugged her forward and Ilsa leaned closer to bury her face in the crook of his neck, while he placed a kiss on the side of her head.
“I am glad you are ok. I was very worried.”
She exhaled, moved to disentangle her legs from his waist to get out of that not so innocent position, and simply rested next to him. She started caressing his face fondly.
“I am sorry. I wanted to send words to you, but before I knew it I was at the top of the most wanted list of a couple of powerful countries and I had to flee. You found me while I was, admittedly, not so successfully trying to figure out how to break the impasse I had walked into.”
“Well, about that, I …”
“Wait, Ethan.” She stopped abruptly as if pondering carefully the consequences of her next words.
“What is it?”
She rose to look out of the window, the sky now dark. She bit her lip, which is what she used to do when she was debating something with herself and then focused again on his expectant eyes.
“Can we just wait until the morning?” She looked sad. “I know we have little time, I know you need to go, and you do not want me anywhere close to whatever happens next, which is a wish I doubt I will be able to grant you, but... can we just put it off for a few hours?”
She looked so vulnerable, it stroke a chord in him, he realised how deeply scared she must have truly been this time, the woman in his arms had nothing of the cheerful and awfully confident agent he had come to know.
He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He couldn’t. They didn’t have the time. But he wanted to keep her close more than anything. Could such a short amount of time make a difference? It was a tough call to make, but for once he could be a little bit selfish.
He gave her a sweet smile. “I could use a few hours of rest, if the lady is kind enough to share the bed.”
She rejoiced and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and turned in his arms so she had her back pressed to his chest. He draped an arm over her hip and she intertwined their fingers.
He rose his head to whisper in her ear: “Good night Ilsa.” And he placed a soft kiss on the line of her hair.
In all response she squeezed his hand, before the comfort of his presence lulled her back to sleep.