Two days later Carter stepped out of the girls locker room into a chilly afternoon. The sky was swept with a thin curtain of clouds. The air smelled of rain to come. Only a few students waited on the track as she walked over. She moved off to one side and began to stretch. The volume of voices steadily rose as more students trickled out. Donovan and Link emerged and made their way to her. As they approached, she twisted to the side and winced slightly.

"What's wrong?" Donovan asked.

Carter was about to shake her head but stopped. Instead, she pivoted and lifted up of the edge of her shirt. Besides a toned stomach, she revealed a fist size bruise on her left side, right below her ribs.

"That's thanks to you," she said, dropping her shirt and nodding to Donovan.

A frown flickered across his face. Link looked between them.

"I thought she was the one hitting you?" he said.

"She was. It was an accident. Carter also doesn't protect her left side," Donovan said.

She pointed to him. "This is not my fault. My left side is perfectly protected."

Donovan's eyes flickered down to her side and up at her.

"You left your left side wide open. How do you explain that bruise, if you were protecting your left side?"

Carter scowled. Donovan raised a questioning eyebrow. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, her expression shifting into something playful.

"Fine, it's something to remember the next time I take you on."

"Remember it, but I'll never fight you. I don't want to leave anymore bruises on you than I already, mistakenly, have."

"I'm more resilient than I look."

"Don't worry, that's something I am very aware of. But I don't want to hurt you."

"So I'll just protect my left side then."

Carter fought against a smile, noticing as Donovan did the same. Link's gaze jumped between them, his expression puzzled.

"I can't tell if you're flirting or not."

The smile broke free of Carter's hold as Donovan's hid away in his eyes.

"Anyone tell you, you have a mean right hook?" she asked, still looking at Donovan.

He nodded to her. "What about your elbow?" He absentmindedly ran a hand over his jaw. "Where did you learn that move from?"

A memory darted through her mind, widening her smile.

"Captain taught me that one," she said. "I nearly took out his eye the first time I tried it."

Link chuckled while Donovan smiled. The amusement dropped away as a question appeared in his eyes. Carter's own smile fell, as she read the expression.

"How's it going?" he asked.

His gaze was trained on her, as if he knew she would lie and he would need to get the real answer from her expression. She shifted, and then shrugged.

"The same," she said.

Before he could say anything, she fixed her features into a taunting look and spoke.

"Are you ready to find out once and for all who is faster?" she asked.

He gave her a look that told her he knew what she was doing, but accepted the topic change all the same.

"Now?" he asked.

She raised a mocking eyebrow. "Why? Do you want a week to prepare?"

His features took on a challenging look. "No, I wasn't sure if you needed one."

"I don't need to prepare to beat you."

"We'll see about that."

As if thinking the same thing, they moved over to their gym teacher. Link watched them walk away, with a half smile. Mr. Danes looked up as they both approached. His eyes flickered between the two of them, his expression cautious.

"Can we borrow your two stop watches?" Donovan asked.

Mr. Danes straightened and crossed his arms.

"What for?" he asked, his tone betraying his curiosity.

"We're going to prove that I'm faster than Donovan," Carter said.

Mr. Danes gave a low chuckle and shook his head. He reached into the pocket of his black pants and pulled out two stop watches.

"Knock yourselves out," he said, handing them over. He focused on Carter. "I mean that in a figurative sense, Owens."

With a wink, she turned away. They walked back to Link, who studied them with crossed arms.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

Carter and Donovan looked at each than back at him.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I just have this feeling you'll never talk to each other

after this."

"Don't worry," Donovan said. "I'm sure Carter won't be too broken up about losing."

She smirked at him and handed Link one of the stopwatches. She looked back at Donovan.

"What do you say? Keep it easy and do a mile?" she asked.

He gave a nod. "Sounds good."

They recruited a second student to work the other stopwatch and walked up to the starting mark. A quarter of the class looked over, vague expressions of intrigue and confusion playing over their faces. Mr. Danes took up a position beside Link, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Carter shook out her arms and rolled her shoulders, loosening up her limbs. Donovan pulled his knee to his chest and then switched. By the time their muscles were ready, the rest of the class had began to wonder what was going on.

"Ready?" Link asked.

Donovan and Carter both sank down into a crouch, their finger tips barely resting in the red turf. He turned his head to her and she met his gaze.

"Don't punch me if you lose," he said.

"Don't pout if I win."

Link raised the stopwatch and the second student followed suit.

"Alright, on your mark."

Carter focused her attention back on the track.

"Get set."

She took in a breath, every nerve rearing to go.

"Go!"

They shot off like bullets from a gun. They rounded the first turn at a dead sprint. Carter found her rhythm and sank deeper into it. The sound of her breath, the pounding of their shoes, and the wind in her ears were the only things she heard. As Donovan lengthened his strides, she followed, pushing every muscle to work harder.

On the edge of the track, students watched as the two shifted back and forth, neither gaining any distance on the other. More and more students dropped their conversations and watched the two runners. Link clenched the stopwatch without knowing, his own breathing coming in shallow breathes, his gaze riveted on the speeding figures.

As they started the final lap, Carter felt ever inch of her burning with exhaustion. Fire seemed to have engulfed body. Her heart was ramming itself against the inside of her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her, fueling every part of her that felt like stopping.

They rounded the last corner and Carter pushed herself, forcing her body to give everything she had. She surged forward, but Donovan didn't let the lead last very long. He charged after her, with renewed determination.

A few students beside Link, started yelling as they pelted towards them. Carter's vision blurred into a single spot just past the starting line.

With a fierce growl, she threw herself forward, crossing the line a second before Donovan.

Link shouted, throwing his hands in the air. Carter stumbled a few more feet and collapsed onto the field. Donovan crashed down next to her a moment later. They both laid on their backs, sucking in deep lungfuls of air.

Carter closed her eyes, every muscle feeling as if it were simultaneously on fire and made of lead. Her heart still jackhammered against her ribs. Blood pounded in her ears, muffling the noise the class.

She turned her head, looking at Donovan. His chest was working like a bellows, gulping down as much air was possible. Sensing her gaze, he looked over. They exchanged weak smiles.

Mr. Danes blew his whistle and started everyone on their own miles. Link retrieved the other stopwatch and ran over to Carter and Donovan. He dropped to one knee beside her, his smile wide. They glanced at him.

"Want to hear the results?" he asked.

Carter and Donovan locked eyes again, as if they just remembered they had been racing to prove something. They looked back at Link. Carter waved a floppy hand.

"Sure...what are...the results?" she asked, still working to get enough air back.

"Carter came in first with 4 minutes and 38 seconds. Donovan in second with 4 minutes and 39 seconds."

Donovan reached over tapped Carter's arm with that back of his hand.

"Congratulations," he said.

She gave breathlessly chuckle. "I think I'll celebrate...by passing out now."

He smiled. "Really? I feel...fine."

She stretched out her hand and punched his arm, but the blow had little force behind it.

"Evans!" Mr. Danes barked.

Link jerked his head up. Mr. Danes gestured for him to get running. Link stood and gave back the stopwatches, before joining the slow progression of students. Carter didn't move, her muscles feeling as if they had melted.

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. But she didn't move, feeling no desire to leave her spot. Donovan rose into a sitting position. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"You still feel like passing out?" he asked.

Her heart had quieted down and she shook her head. He stood and held out a hand. She took it, their fingers gripping each other. Even after the taxing working out, he easily lifted her to her feet. Their hands dropped away from each other.

Donovan pulled up the edge of his shirt, showcasing an impressive set of abdominal muscles as he wiped away the sweat on his forehead.

The only sign that Carter was aware of this fact was a slight raise in her eyebrows. Then her eyes dropped to the soft ball sized, purple bruise that was positioned above his left hip bone. A few girls, passing by, stumbled into each as the tried to walk and stare at the same time.

"Careful, Donovan," Carter said. "You might send the girls in this class to the nurse with fainting spells."

He dropped his shirt and gave her a half smile.

"Do you number among that lot, Carter?" he asked.

Crossing her arms, she gave him a flat stare in response. His smile grew. She pointed to the spot where she had seen the bruise.

"I see you have some nice coloring," she said.

"I have your knee to thank for that."

She smirked. He nodded to the track.

"You want to cool down?" he asked.

"I feel like I want to throw up, but sure, let's cool down."

They moved onto the track and started jogging. The slow, rhythmic pace relaxed Carter and she found her muscles relishing the simple movement. Donovan glanced at her.

"Do you plan on hiding out with us again today?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think I've avoided the apartment enough this week."

Donovan nodded and faced forward.

"Well," he said, "if you ever need to hide out, my couch is available."

She looked at him, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Is that an open invitation?" she asked.

He met her gaze, but there was no joke in his eyes. The seriousness of his expression stole away her playful manner.

"It is," he said.

She didn't smile or make a single mocking comment.

"Thanks," she said.

He gave a nod. They were silent a moment and then he spoke.

"I'm sure Link is lonely," he said.

Carter smiled. "Let's go keep him company then."

They quickened their pace, their strides perfectly in sync.

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

Donovan turned the Mercedes into the alley and pulled to a stop outside Carter's apartment. She looked over at him.

"You really didn't have to drive me," she said.

He gave a careless shrug, as if driving miles in the opposite direction wasn't a big deal.

"We don't mind," he said.

When Link didn't affirm his statement, he looked in the rear view mirror, as Carter twisted around. Link was staring at his phone screen, typing away. Donovan and Carter shared a glance and a knowing smile. She opened the door, but looked back at Donovan.

"Don't take it too badly that I beat you," she said.

Donovan rested one arm on the steering wheel.

"How long do you plan on gloating?"

"Until I beat you at something else."

She grabbed her bag and climbed out. When she turned around to close the door, Donovan was watching her. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

She fought her own smile as she shut the door. The sound of it brought Link from his own world. Carter was half up the stairs by the time he noticed she was gone and took her spot. A second later the car drove away.

She stepped into the apartment, but found the silence didn't bother her as much in the light of her buoyant mood. Still fighting her smile, she nudged the door closed. She kicked off her shoes and settled onto the couch.

The sun gradually lowered into the distance as papers and notebooks expanded from where she sat. The quiet of the place was broken up by the sound of her pencil scratching across the paper. Her mood hadn't dimmed at all by the time she heard her father's car pulling in. As he climbed the stairs, she looked up, her expression light.

The door opened and she raised her pencil to throw, but lowered her hand at the serious look on his face. Mechanically, he shut the door and left his keys in the bowl. When he turned towards Carter, the light had gone out in her face.

"Hey Captain," she said. "What's going on?"

She cleared aside a spot on the couch. He didn't take it, instead he stood before her.

"Carter."

At the sound of her name, her fingers tightened around her pencil.

"I need to tell you something," he said.

"Is it why you have been distant the last two weeks?"

He gave a single nod, crossing his arms.

"I know this is going to be hard to hear," he said.

A part of Carter's mind screamed for him not to say whatever it was.

"It's not going to be easy to understand either," he said, his words moving slowly.

"Captain, just say it," she said, forcing her voice to sound calm. "I trust you."

Her father looked at her for a long moment, too many emotions flashing through his eyes for her to read.

"I signed back on with the secret service for two more years."

At the words, Carter's heart froze inside her chest and her body turned to stone.

"I will stay through until President Douglas is out of office."

She stared at him, unmoving, unblinking. It was as if she had dropped out of the world and everything kept moving, except her. Her father looked at her, his resolve still prominent in his stance and expression.

"I know this is difficult to understand, Sarge, but it's something I need to do. I needed to-"

"Four more months," she said, the quiet words thawing her, and cutting off her father. "Four more months and then you would be safe." She spoke as if the reality of his decision was still beyond her reach. "Captain, you had four more months to go. Four months."

Her father let out a sigh and took a seat on the edge of the coffee table before her. He leaned over his knees, his hands clasped.

"Sarge, this was not a decision I made lightly. With everything that happened I realized I was still needed."

"You were shot," she said.

With the statement came the fresh rush of fear that she had felt the night it had happened. The image of her father in the hospital bed crashed into the forefront of her mind. The sight of Curtis on her doorstep. The gray haired woman working the reception desk. The beeping of the heart monitor. The smell of antiseptic cleaner.

She stared at him, feeling as if someone had punched her heart.

"Sarge, I know-"

Carter bolted up right, as if what he had said finally made sense. The pencil snapped in her grip, her heart shrinking.

"You were shot and you want to go back?! You can't do this to me! I've had to live with the reality that you could not come home every night. You can't put me through this again! You can't leave me!"

Her lungs seemed to be collapsing on themselves. Her father rose, his hands already raised in a placating gesture.

"Sarge, this is something I need to do."

"No, it's not! You've already given enough to this President. You don't need to give more. You promised me this would be over soon. I was going to live without fear. You were going to be safe." The words tumbled out as if there were no filter or rationality to help contain them anymore. Her father took a step forward.

"If you just listen, I can explain why I made my choice."

Carter gripped the two pieces of the pencil tighter. "We had a plan! You were going to be safe."

A hint of sadness enter her father's look, but she didn't see it.

"Sarge-"

"These last two weeks," she said. "That's why...You were deciding whether you wanted to..."

"Yes," her father said.

In the new light all of the distance and stiff conversations made sense. Carter took a step back, shaking her head, as if she couldn't come to terms with it. Her father took a step forward, his gaze still holding hers though her eyes had gone glassy.

"Sarge, I need you to listen to me," he said.

She shook her head more adamantly. "It changes nothing."

"You could understand why I chose this."

Carter focused on him and her eyes still wide with shock. "It makes no difference. Bullets aren't stopped by thought out decisions."

Before he could say anything, she moved around him and raced towards the door.

"Carter!"

She was already outside by the time his call had followed after her. She clambered down the stairs, the pencil falling from her hand. When she hit the last step, she took off running. Where she was going she didn't know but she was driven by a need to run away. Her father's declaration chased after her, nipping at her heels.

She wasn't aware of where she was until she stopped before a waist high, chain link fence. Beyond it was a swing set and old, wooden playground. Breathing deeply, she entered and dropped into one of the swings. It swayed beneath her. She bent her face into her hands, trying to gather her breath. Her thoughts were a hurricane of images and words stampeding through them.

The night air was cold, the wind bitter as it shouldered its way passed her. The harsh tones of voices drifted out into the night, words blocked by doors and windows. As she sat there, she felt all her emotions mesh together and sting her eyes. Still struggling to breathe, the tears gathered and made a slow exit. The tightness in her chest doubled and she fought for each lungful of air.

The metal fence squeaked out a warning and Carter shot her head up. Parades of tears travelled down her face. A thin figure approached her. Maggie's face was a mask of sympathy as she stopped before Carter.

"Hi hun," she said.

Carter dropped her head into her hands again.

"He's signed up for two more years," she choked out.

Maggie crouched down, resting one hand on Carter's knee and the other on her shoulder.

"I know, hun," she said, her voice soothing.

"Why would he do that? Why would he do that to us? To me?"

Maggie rubbed Carter's back in a comforting motion.

"I know it was a hard decision for him to make," she said. "He didn't make it on a whim. We talked about it for a long-"

Maggie was cut off when Carter jerked up. She stared at Maggie, her face hardening.