Part 35 - Best of the Best

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"Well, that went well," Jase tapped his finger lightly on the arm of the couch as Ant swept the fragments of glass up. The moon shone high in the sky through the tall glass looking out to the city, a myriad of smaller buildings and streets trickling through them. 

"She needs time," Ant offered his thoughtless reply, half trying to convince himself as much as Jase. 

Jase chuckled in disbelief, hearing a faint scraping against Paige's door, the shunt of something hard against the wood. He raised his brows and tipped his chin towards her room. 

"She's petrified of me," he stated matter-of-factly, the after effect of his words unfurling in his mind. "And I don't blame her." She was barricading herself in her room in case he tried to break in, he knew that. But how could he tell her it was unnecessary? He'd willingly assumed the role of the villain, and that was exactly how she saw him.

"You asked me once not to explain the whole situation to her. Considering where we are now, don't you think she should know?" Ant frowned quizzically at the American, who had continued to go up in his estimation despite his best attempts to resent him. 

"No," Jase tapped his finger harder. He had given this a lot of thought. Jase knew he had a high chance of redeeming his character in Paige's eyes if she knew the entire story. She would have understood what he did was actually an act of protection rather than sadistic aggression, and she would have forced herself to try to see him differently, as difficult and conflicting as that may be. Half of Jase wanted her to know with an ache inside he couldn't place, but he knew it was selfish. 

"It would be too confusing for her, emotionally. Right now I'm the manifestation of fear and injustice and everything bad that happened to her. Tell her the whole story and we'll only be replacing that with the organisation she now believes has contractually pledged to protect her. She won't trust Lorres or anybody on base, you wont be here, and she'll never entirely forgive or trust me. She'll either have signed this," Jase waved the wad of stapled papers in the air, "and will feel totally trapped in a new city, alone with no one to trust. Or she'll refuse to sign it- which isn't an option by the way- and they'll force her under the counter terrorism act to remain here in 'protective custody'. Which to her will be no different to sitting in the little cell I made her wait in all that time." 

"Right," Ant nodded slowly, ashamed to realise he hadn't really thought of the implications of telling the truth. 

"It's easier for me to be the bad guy." 

"Yeah, fuck," Ant ran a hand through his hair, which was beginning to grow unruly. "You're right. I wish there was a way around me leaving." 

"No offence but, why do you feel obligated to stay?" 

"Nature of the job, I suppose. I don't feel like it's finished yet," Ant summarised the depth of his thoughts on the question in two uncommitted sentences. Jase nodded in understanding, he felt somewhat similar. Though for him, it was the first time. He'd never had a problem separating work and real life, but this had pushed him to the edge of his comfort zone. 

"You still love the life?" Jase smiled sadly, noticing the tell tale signs of a soldier still committed to his post in his British counterpart. It was an affection and obsession he'd grown tired of long ago.   

"I do. I love my job, I can't really imagine a life outside it right now. I'll get there one day, I'm sure," Ant reflected on the life he'd lived. Nearly twenty years service; he'd enlisted at seventeen. There had been times where he thought he'd had enough, watching friends die, watching relationships wither, but the SAS to him now was the great love of his life. A poignant, tragic, bloody, raging love story, that he knew he would probably never be able to give up. 

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