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Cobble hesitated before he followed Andy into the kitchen.

A memory from almost ten years ago hit him. It was the day they’d arrived at her parents’ compound. He’d had a great time getting to know Andy’s family, and he’d finally felt like maybe he’d found a place where he could hide and be happy. But before that night had ended, Andy had revealed that she’d be going overseas to find the CIA leak; that she’d risk her life following El-Umar around in hopes of finally moving the case along.

Cobble had tried like hell to dissuade her, as had her parents, but they hadn’t made a dent in her armor. Stubborn woman. She’d spent a long time getting approval and setting things up, but she’d eventually left for the African continent. The next bunch of years had been the hardest times of Cobble’s life, with her being close to danger, and only coming back to visit, sporadically. But he recalled what she’d said as she’d told him goodbye that first time.

In order to make change in the world, one has to follow one’s convictions .

True then, and true now.

Cobble would remind Andy of that in a few minutes.

He wanted… No, he needed to change the world; his world. And if by doing so, he brought a handful of dishonest agents and a foreign war-lord to justice, life would be worth living again.

Either way, Cobble was not staying in hiding any longer, and Andy would just have to roll with it.

Cobble squared his shoulders and took a few steps toward where Andy was humming off-key in the kitchen, before he stopped again.

Shit. Another memory hit him.

Something Cobble hadn’t recalled until this moment—or he’d blocked it from his brain because it had been so painful. It was how badly he and Andy had fought the day before she left for South Sudan the first time. They’d had a terrible altercation where they’d hurled hurtful words at each other they didn’t mean. His bitter rejoinders had come from a place of fear; hers from thinking Cobble didn’t trust her to get her job done.

In retrospect—when they’d finally taken their heads out of their asses and begun their…trysts—they’d agreed that the overlying angst that day had been because they’d had yet to admit their attraction to each other.

But at least for that one, horrendous day, they’d parted company, acrimoniously.

They’d recovered and mended fences when she’d returned for the first time, but it had probably set the trajectory of their true relationship back a bit.

A small grin touched Cobble’s lips. Yeah. Their initial reconciliation had been the beginning of them dancing around their attraction to each other. But looking back, he wouldn’t change things. Their shy reticence had made for a very titillating, slow build where they flirted and teased, skirted around her family’s speculations, and hinted at what might happen between them, before things came to an eventual, effervescent boil.

The wait had been sooo worth it.

But now?

Would he and Andy have a second, huge fight? And if they did, would they be able to recover from this one?

He was about to find out.

Cobble mentally got his arguments in order.

He’d point out to Andy that—despite his dissension at the time—her stubbornness those many years ago had led to the rogue CIA agent being revealed; that her decision, as much as he hadn’t liked it, hadn’t been in vain, and that it had led to their coming together.

He simply needed to convince Andy that his plan this time had an equal chance of succeeding, and their relationship could then move forward, unhindered.

Of course, she’d argue that her triumph had been fleeting, and that things—outside of their newly forged bond—had quickly blown up.

The bad-apple agent, after being filmed by Andy while taking money from El-Umar, had been arrested and extradited to the States; put into DOJ custody where he’d eventually been tried, then he’d been assassinated during transport. Which meant that there was still someone in the DOJ who was involved with the illegal machinations of El-Umar.

And that was why El-Umar was still at large.

Loose ends at the DOJ and at the FBI still had to be uncovered and tied up before shutting El-Umar down altogether; for Cobble to testify against the man on charges of murder.

Which is where Cobble’s plan came into play.

“Are you gonna eat, or not?” Andy called to him, turning from the microwave to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, giving him a grin. “I’ve already got mine.” She held up a plate she’d piled high with various selections of Chinese food that she’d just rewarmed.

Cobble sighed; his hands planted deeply in his jeans’ pockets.

Fuck . Did he spoil her appetite, now, or did he let her eat before letting fly?

Andy stared at him for a hot minute before…

“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting her plate down.

Of course she’d pick up on his unease.

“I…” Cobble took a deep breath, then blurted out the first thing that came into his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You…?”

Her shock had Cobble momentarily questioning whether or not he wanted to continue.

“What do you mean, you can’t…? Do you mean…us?” Her voice cracked.

Oh, shit.

Major misfire!

“No! Of course not!” Cobble yelped out. He quickly rounded the island and drew a stiff Andy into his arms. “We’re good, sweetheart. Better than good. What we have between us is and has been the best part of my life for the past five years. It’s the only thing that’s kept me sane.”

He kissed her with a fervency that he hoped settled her worries.

“Mmm. Best kiss, ever,” he attempted as he raised his head slightly, but this time, his silly words didn’t distract her.

Andy succumbed for a few seconds before pulling back abruptly to glare. “Then what can’t you do anymore?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes behind her overly-large glasses.

Cobble looked closely at her steely resolve, and lined up his arguments. “Well, I’ve decided—”

Andy blinked, then pushed him away.

“No. Uh, uh. Just…no,” she spat out, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Cobble was almost amused. “Think about what?” he asked, swallowing down his nervous emotions.

“About becoming visible,” she guessed, and rightly so. “Making yourself a target,” she continued. “Cobble. Stop. This isn’t the way. You just need to be patient,” she urged. “The agency is getting closer and closer every day.”

It was Cobble’s turn to step back. His feet took him around the counter and into his living room where he began to pace.

“No. They’re not,” he clipped loudly. “You and Chuck have been saying that for the past fourteen years.” He stopped, facing away from Andy, frustratedly running a hand back through his overly-long blond hair.

“And I’m tired of living like this. I am so done with making friends, only to have to say goodbye. I’m miserable, not being able to commit to holding down a job. I hate not seeing my Mom and Dad when I want to, especially now that they’re getting older.” He sucked in a breath. “And I really hate not being able to plan for the future, Andy. Our future,” he clarified. “Hell, the only semblance of normalcy I’ve had in the past decade and a half were the years I lived with your family. And then, after reading Chuck in on my location, you two were still only able to arrange for me to see my parents twice, and for us to be together three or four times a year, at best.”

Yeah. Even when she eventually started working for SOS, it had been considered unsafe for her to travel to see him without intricate planning.

And wasn’t it fucked up that Cobble might have agreed to continue being a ghost and maintaining the status quo at the Andriopolos compound if he’d been able to stay longer?

But that hadn’t happened.

Because he’d had to move. Again.

Cobble’s resolve hardened, remembering how difficult that had been.

“I’m done, Andy. I just can’t be invisible anymore. I can’t.”

He turned toward her, walking forward to place his hands on the island between them. He dropped his stoic mask and let her see the depths of his sorrow, showing her all the anguish and regrets he’d held inside over the things he’d missed while in hiding.

Andy sat heavily on the stool opposite to him. “I get it, Cobble. I do. And I’m sorry. But what are our options here, other than making you a sacrificial lamb?”

Cobble blinked.

She was using…reason? She wasn’t going to fight him on this?

Really ?

Maybe, just maybe, Andy felt as defeated as he did.

“I have this idea,” he told her, leaning over to place his elbows on the granite island so he was eye to eye with her. “One I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve gone over it, refined it, and… I promise it’s good.”

“Have you run it by Chuck?” Andy asked, not looking certain.

Cobble snorted. “What do you think? The man is such a worrier, he’d shoot me down faster than I could get the words out of my mouth. So, no. I haven’t told him. I’m laying this out here for you. Then we can tell Chuck. Together.” Cobble wasn’t above begging. “Please, Andy. Help me get out of this purgatory I’m in. Please,” he reiterated.

She dropped her head to her hands and cradled her skull. “Okay. Tell me,” she stated with finality. “But we only move ahead with it if I like what I hear.”

Cobble felt hope build in his chest. Would she agree to his stratagem? He knew he couldn’t do this without her help, but she was giving him hope. With her partial acquiescence, his neurons started firing in electrical excitation.

“I’ve thought about this long and hard,” he said, finding his words. “All the things I’m going to propose need to be orchestrated perfectly; several parts having to be done in conjunction with one another,” he told her carefully. “That way we’ll lower our risks while making sure we take out all the bad players pretty much at the same time.”

“Something we’ve been trying to do for a bunch of long freakin’ years, Cobble,” Andy reminded him with a huff.

“Yeah, but here’s the difference. For fourteen years, Andy, we’ve been playing a game of defense,” he stated forcefully. “ This time we’re going to be the offense.”

Andy actually looked hopeful.

Without wasting any more time, Cobble outlined his scheme.

Much to his surprise and delight, with a few minor tweaks and an agreement to finally involve Andy’s much-trusted SOS team—Chuck would also be given a say, of course—Andy agreed his plan was sound, and admitted it had a high chance of success.

She actually gave it seventy-thirty odds, which was more than he’d been angling for.

“It sounds doable,” she admitted, “but it’s the thirty percent uncertainty I’m worried about.” She was looking a little less pleased now that they’d finished planning.

Right .

Hand Andy logistics to solve, and her brilliant mind couldn’t help but engage. But once her brain was finished with the hard stuff, doubts tended to filter back in.

Cobble wasn’t having any of that. Not now that he could see light at the end of his long, isolated tunnel. He wouldn’t back down.

He stood and walked around the island.

“Come here,” Cobble told her, holding his arms open wide.

She didn’t hesitate, but got up to plaster herself against him, burying her nose against his chest.

“This is for the best, Andy, and you know it,” he soothed, running his hands up and down her spine. “Neither one of us could continue to live like this much longer. With the years ticking by, we’d miss out on so much.”

Should he go for it? Why not?

“Kids,” he managed.

“You… You want kids?” Andy blinked up at him. “You’ve never said. You know I have Rory…” The girl had become her legal ward after her SOS team had thwarted a terrorists’ kidnapping, and a scheme to use her as a human bomb.

“Whom I have yet to meet,” Cobble chuckled. “But wouldn’t your niece like to have a few little cousins to spoil?”

“Uh, duh. She’d be over the moon,” Andy agreed with a small snicker before growing serious again. “And I… I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “A little boy who looks just like you would be…pretty sweet.” She sighed.

Or a tiny dark-haired girl with a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, Cobble mused .

“Okay then,” he managed without choking on the tears that might or might not be lodged in his throat. “How, uh, hungry are you?” Cobble asked, his voice sounding deep, even to his own ears.

“Huh?” Andy looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Weren’t we just talking about kids?” she asked, her lips twitching in amusement.

“We were,” he confirmed. “But… Yeah. It tracks. How hungry are you?”

“Because…?” she posed.

“Because if you’re agreeable, we can put the Chinese in the fridge while we practice making babies.”

“Ah. I see where your mind went,” Andy chortled.

She reached a hand toward her plate, snagged a wonton, and popped it into her mouth.

“There,” she said, chewing quickly. “That ought to hold me.”