A/N: Ah, yes…another helping of Nympho! This one's not as funny as the others, but Chapter 10 of Roads (if you haven't read that, I suggest you read it first before you continue) wasn't a very happy chapter for Carina. I actually do feel quite terrible for her. But anyway, I think this is a pretty important chapter for Carina. Thank you for reading, and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

ETA: OH, GOSH! I forgot to thank mxpw for the beta! I'm a terrible person. But he's super awesome! Ah! I feel so bad, now.

I don't look at him when he thanks me for tonight. What was I going to do, let Omega take him? I don't look at him when he says goodnight either. It's too hard. A part of me wishes that Walker really was Omega, but that's only because I'm selfish. It's always been a problem of mine. Still, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if Walker was Omega. Chuck would be pretty butt-hurt about it, that's for sure. But after that, then maybe...

Fuck it. What's done is done.

Even if it sounds contradictory, I can honestly say that I was relieved when I found out that Walker really wasn't Omega. Well, she was, but not really. Hell, if Omega had gotten to me and threatened Chuck's, Bryce's, or even Sarah's life, I would have done the same thing.

The minutes went by. I don't know how long I sat down in the Den, still in my Eisley suit, when Jill walks out of her room/office. She's in a white shirt with Stanford written in red, and she's wearing a baggy pair of sweats with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She doesn't notice me while she pours water from a bottle into a mug and puts it in the microwave.

"Can't sleep?" she asks, not taking her eyes off the microwave.

I jump a little in surprise. "Didn't think you noticed me."

Jill does this thing where she frowns yet smiles at the same time. "You're kind of hard to miss."

If this had happened yesterday, I would have immediately thought that Jill was hitting on me. But it's not yesterday, so I shrug. The microwave beeps, and Jill takes out her mug and puts in a teabag. She walks over to where I'm sitting and gestures to the empty chair beside me. I nod, letting her know that she could sit down.

We sit in silence. From time to time, Jill dips her teabag and wiggles the mug around. I pick at my armor. "How long did it take you to figure out how to make these?"

"Two years," she replied. "I think I could be richer than Chuck if I sold the plans to the government."

I laugh dryly. "Girl, your life sucks." It really does suck. Poor girl can barely leave the house, she figured out a way to make liquid armor work, and she doesn't get recognition or money for any of it. What a life.

Jill shrugs. "I like to think that something good will happen to me eventually."

"You Buddhist or something?"

"Or something," she replies with a chuckle. She sips her tea, and looks up. "Oh, I should have asked if you wanted some."

I shake my head. "It's all good."

Again, there's a lull. It's not terribly uncomfortable, but it's not comfortable either. I pick my mask up from the desk behind me and study it. It's nothing special, really, on the outside—just a plain, black mask that covers half of my face. But on the inside, there are two lenses for night vision and sonar and a bunch of computer chip looking thingies.

"Can I ask you something?" asks Jill.

"Shoot."

"How bad do you hate Sarah Walker right now?" She finishes with an awkward chuckle.

"I don't hate her," I reply honestly.

"Really?" Jill sounds skeptical. "I've heard stuff from Bryce and Chuck about how you guys—"

"Me and Walker have been like this for years," I interrupt. I know how things look from the outside. It probably looks like Sarah and I hate each other. "There was a time when I considered her my best friend. But shit happened…"

I was twenty-one. Walker was twenty. We were the only two women in our year of recruits. The rest were a bunch of cocky guys, who immediately passed us off as eye-candy. Well, they passed me off as eye-candy. I always took the time to look decent. Walker, on the other hand, she didn't give a crap about how she looked unless we were told to look our best.

We both had a lot to prove. I didn't want to be conceived as just eye-candy. I don't think Walker wanted to be known as "That blonde who could be really hot if she wanted to—but you'd tap that anyway—I know I would." So we kicked ass. If the instructors wanted us to run some crazy obstacle course in less than ten minutes, we would finish in five. We beat all of the guys at everything. Eventually, we started to compete against each other. If I finished something in five minutes, two seconds, Walker would beat me by finishing it at five minutes, one second.

It was a friendly competition. Walker made training fun for me. There were times when things got tough for the both of us. We held each other up. I think that it was around then when I realized that Walker was the first real friend that I've ever had. Yeah, I had a lot of friends in high school, but to me, they were disposable. I went through friends like they were junk mail.

Maybe I did that because I was afraid to let people get close to me. That's probably the reason why I joined the CIA in the first place. You're constantly on the road, you meet people, and you either arrest them or kill them before they get to know you.

But I let Walker in. She was a cool kid. Even if we had to go through hell the next day, Walker and I would give all the other guys hell at night. She approached things differently from me. While I would get a guy into bed, seduce him a bit, then handcuff him to the rails, and pour itching powder down their pants, Walker would do more kiddy crap like put plastic wrap over the toilets so that the guys couldn't see before they dropped a deuce.

Those were some good times. Conspiring with Walker, and figuring out ways to mess with the other guys.

A couple of years later, we completed our training. Our first mission was to stop a shipment of plutonium to North Korea. The first night was only supposed to be recon. The plan went like this: we were to board a commercial cruise ship in Washington State. When we got to a certain bearing, we were supposed to sneak off the ship. We had one of those little inflatable rafts with a shitty engine. We were told that the shipping boat would be around three miles away from where we were. Then, we were supposed to get on the boat, confirm that the plutonium was there, and report back.

I decided to have a little fun. We found the plutonium. While Walker was getting her camera out of her bag to take pictures, I thought, well, shit. There's only about ten kilos, might as well just take it now.

So that's what I did. I grabbed the huge metallic case by the handles. Walker gave me a scandalized look like I just flashed the President or something. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Improvising."

I lifted the case. It was heavier than I expected. All of a sudden, the room started flashing red. Alarms went off. Like kids stealing candy, Walker grabbed the other handle, and we ran like hell up to the deck. Then, a rain of gunfire sounded. The bullets barely missed us while we ran. We didn't even bother to climb down the boat; we just jumped. The water was freezing while we simultaneously swam and drug the case of plutonium to our raft.

The guys on the boat shot our raft, and Walker just shoved her fingers in the holes while I tried to push the shitty engine to go faster. By the time we got to our ship, our raft was deflated, we were wet, and we were cold as hell. The whole time, Walker was giving me the dirtiest look that I ever saw. But when we climbed back up to the ship, she just fell on the deck, laughing her ass off.

"That was insane!" she cried, in between her laughter.

Later, when we dried off, I suggested that we go to the bars below deck. But Walker was all sorts of paranoid, and she refused to go. I went anyway. I met some girl—it doesn't matter what her name was—and we went at it. That's probably where I got my habit of sleeping with people after a successful mission. But I remember, while the girl and I were going at it, just bursting in laughter at the thought of Walker sitting on top of the case of plutonium with a gun in her hand.

After all that, she and I started to really get to know each other. She told me about her life as a con-girl when she was in her teens. I told her about how when I was a teenager, I realized that I started getting into girls after I found out that the kids from that band Hanson were guys. Apart from the occasional solo missions, Walker and I always spent time together.

Things weren't always good, though. I remember our red tests. God, to take a life…it was something that I always knew was expected from me, but when that time came, it was something else. We took our red tests at the same time. Walker went to France, I went to Italy. Five hours later, we were both crying in each other's arms like a pair of kids listening to their parents fighting at night. Something inside both of us died that night, but we never talked about it. We pretended like it never happened. On missions, however, neither of us ever hesitated to shoot first if we needed to. Maybe that was the whole point of those red tests. To kill that thing you didn't really know that existed inside of you, and made you apathetic about taking lives. I don't know.

That night was the first time I ever let anyone see me cry, or see me in a vulnerable state.

Eventually, Walker and I went on even more solo missions. It surprised me that, whenever we got back, I was happy to see her. A lot of people thought that Bryce was the first person that I've ever had feelings for, and I've told them that Bryce was first person that I've ever had feelings for. The fact of the matter was that I had feelings for Walker first.

Surprising? Not really. I'm just a wounded puppy that falls in love with the first person that shows me any sign that they care. Look at what happened with Chucky. The guy actually cared about my wellbeing. The same went with Sarah.

The night that everything changed for us happened after a mission in Moscow almost two years ago. We were celebrating, like we always did, with vodka. Lots of vodka. Walker was always a touchy person around people that she was comfortable with. Whenever I saw her with Chuck, she was always picking invisible lint off his clothes, or had her arm wrapped around his. With me, she would get pretty touchy whenever we drank. Even with the slightest buzz, Walker would always put her hand on my shoulder and laugh whenever I made a joke.

Anyway, so that night, we got pretty drunk. It was after a mission, and all I knew was that there was no man or woman in that bar that I wanted more than Walker. She was gorgeous! She had on this short, blue dress, and God! I just wanted to cook that girl breakfast! So when we got bored, we went to our hotel rooms. Because I didn't get my usual post-mission plow, and because I was pretty wasted, I walked over to Walker's room. I slid under the covers with her. It wasn't anything unusual. We had sleepovers before during our off time. But that night, I remember brushing her hair aside, and she was looking at me. I couldn't tell if she was confused or excited, but I made my move. When my face was less than an inch away from hers, Walker just started to laugh.

I played it off as a joke, but fuck…it stung. Walker wouldn't stop laughing, and I just felt my mind snap.

Months before, though, Walker and I met Bryce. The three of us all teamed up for a mission, and I could tell that she liked him. After the mission was complete, she straight up told me about how she wanted to get to know him better, maybe ask him out on a date.

So the day after Walker blew me off, I called Bryce with one of the worst hangovers ever. I told him that we should get together sometime. And we did. I took pictures of Bryce and me going at it, and I sent them to Walker.

It was petty. I know that now. But even though she tried to shrug it off, I knew it bothered her. Ever since then, we stopped spending a lot of time together. We only saw each other for missions. We still worked great together, but yeah…

"…so that's what happened," I finish as I toss my mask behind me on the desk.

Jill gives me a sad look. "That really…blows."

"I guess I got what I deserved," I say. "But even if I told Walker that I…had feelings, or whatever, for her, I don't think she plays both sides of the field, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And Chuck's in love with her, anyway, so I never stood a chance with him either."

Jill laughs. "Welcome to the club."

I look at her. "I guess it's hard to compete with a girl that he's known for his entire life."

"For sure."

I sigh and stand up. "Oh, well. I'm sure that when everything is over, we'll find someone awesome for ourselves. And you can make a pretty penny, or two, with this." I tug at my armor.

She grins. "Definitely. Well, good night, Carina."

"Night, Jill." I strip away my armor while I walk down the Den to pick up my clothes from before the mission. I hear a clang, and I turn to see that Jill had accidentally knocked over her mug.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope everyone has a great New Year!