Rule #28: Never turn a blind eye to what you see in front of you

When Mark woke up the next morning he realized something weird when he felt Saera in his arms. She was curled towards his chest with her leg thrown around his waist. Her head was ducked down and her forehead was pressed to his chest like she was hiding against him.

He realized that there was no real reason for them to be sleeping together anymore.

Mireu's death was the cause of Saera's nightmares and inability to fall asleep, but Mireu was alive now and neither of them had a real reason to sleep together.

But instead of slipping out of bed and putting distance between them, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. He tucked his face in the crook of her neck and took a deep breath of her skin, shivering at the feeling it gave him.

He let his eyes flutter shut and sunk against the mattress, basking in the feeling of her against his body as he fell back to sleep.

The old Mark would've already been in the shower before going for an early morning jog.

This Mark just didn't give a .

Saera's winced when the sun hit her eyes and woke up slowly and groggily. She went to lift her head but found it difficult when Mark's face shifted in her neck.

She blinked a few times, a little thrown off. She wasn't surprised that she was sleeping beside Mark, that was the norm, but she was surprised how closely he was holding her. Normally he'd have a lose arm around her or their legs would be tangled.

She had never woken up to him hugging her like this.

It made her feel things that people like her didn't deserve to feel.

She slowly raised her hand and traced along the line of his collarbone with her finger, resting her head on the pillow and watched her finger his skin back and forth.

His skin was warm and her fingers were freezing, she was pulled into a trance as she watched goose bumps break out from his smooth skin and then began smoothing the little bumps with her finger. Mark flinched and let out a crackly groan before shifting closer to her.

One of his hands slipped under her shirt and rest on the curve of her side while his fingers tapped softly against her skin.

Saera gulped at the intimate feeling, her finger stilling, and started to pull away, gently prying his fingers off her body and his face away from her skin.

Youngjae would be so disappointed in her.

And honestly, she was disappointed in herself.

His hands dropped lifelessly on the bed as she slunk out of the bed and out the door. She quietly shut the door behind her before leaning against it.

The idea seemed good last night, it was their routine, they always slept together, but today felt different. Today she found herself thinking about what it would feel like to wake up every morning next to him with his arms around her body and his legs tangled together with hers.

It was too intimate.  

She rubbed her face before walking off to the bathroom to wash up. She purposely took her time brushing teeth, showering and drying her hair before cautiously stepping out into the living room.

She tip toed to the bedroom and peeked inside only to see Mark on his stomach, still totally asleep. Saera looked around the apartment before shuffling her way to the kitchen.

She hadn't been in the bakery in such a long time, that she needed to brush up on her skills. Right before she grabbed the ingredients, she pulled a crumpled photograph from the depths of her pockets.

She looked at the picture, creased down the middle from being shoved in her pocket when she stole it from the Chief's safe and felt rage fill her system.

"You sick, sick bastard. I will end you."

-----

"I smell ." Jackson claimed boldly as he walked up to Saera and Mark at the precinct.

The two of them blinked blankly at him before Saera lifted a plate up to him, "I made cinnamon buns."

"That was it!" He said with a snap of his fingers as he snatched a bun, "That marriage proposal is still on the table." He chirped and walked away.

Mark snorted and looked back at his computer finishing an arrest report for the drug bust he made when her and Youngjae were tagging along.

He was so backed up with reports and files that he didn't even have time to go out and eat with her. They had to settle with grabbing take out and eating at his desk. Saera poked her food before she started picking the onions out of her food and dropping them onto his rice.

Mark's caught her from the side of his eyes and raised his brows, "Are you trying to give me bad breath?"

"I don't like onions." She muttered with a scrunched face, "They taste mushy."

Mark had a dumb smile on his face as he took a moment to watch her. She glanced up at him and froze when she locked into his eyes and felt her skin grow hot.

"What are you looking at?"

Mark shrugged, "Didn't think you were so picky."

"Learning a lot, aren't we?" She said with a lopsided smile.

Mark leaned back against his chair, "Like peeling back layers of an onion."

"Funny." She deadpanned.

Mark smiled and faced his computer, giving Saera the chance to stare at his face. Her fingers slacked against her chopsticks as that familiar heat and pain ached through her chest.

She was too comfortable with him.

His eyes darted across his screen and all she could do was stare. That's all she'll ever be able to do until a girl much more honest than herself comes into his life.

And that was an excruciating thought to come to terms with.

The thought of him having a girlfriend.

The thought of him being with a girl much better than her.

The thought that she wasn't going to be the endgame.

The thought of what it would be like if she was good enough for Mark Tuan.

"Mail's here." A boy said, wheeling in a cart overflowing with mail. Saera mindlessly picked at her food as the boy did his rounds, handing out everyone's mail.

She felt her heart jump when she felt something trap her legs together. Her eyes darted to her calves that were currently caged between Mark's ankles.

She looked up at him in alarm, but he wasn't even paying attention to her. He was throwing a stress ball between his palms while reading something off his screen.

Saera hated when Mark did things like this because he did them absentmindedly. Which meant that he was just as comfortable with her as she was with him.

Which would make breaking ties very difficult.

"Here you go." The mail boy said as he set down a small pile of envelopes on Mark's desk.

Mark let her legs go free and nodded at the boy before exchanging a high five. He grabbed the first letter and scanned it before ripping it open. He read the contents before sighing and standing up.   

"I'll be back. I need to double check something with my pay check." He said to her.

Saera nodded and watched him jog off to the accounting office. Her eyes scanned his table until her eyes landed on a white envelope that was smaller than the rest.

She looked around the office before using two fingers to pinch the corner of the envelope and pull it out from the pile. The return address was the same as the address of the precinct but Mark's name was neatly scribbled on the back of the envelope.

She hooked her nail under the flap and sliced the envelope open before pulling out the small cardstock that tumbled into her hand.

It was a photograph.

She flipped it over and read the think black ink just and felt her eyes widen and her heart leap up .

"You know, opening someone's mail is a federal offense."

She looked up and stared horrified at Mark who was smirking at her, but when her face remained horrified, his smirk faltered and was replaced with confused concern, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Her trembling hand held the card out for him to read himself. It was a photograph of a trailer and on the back of the picture was a short, sweet message.

Off the 504, near the Hwang-Do exit, you'll find the man you're looking for. The one who collects.

-----

In a matter of seconds, the entire precinct was utter chaos.

Mark and Jackson were barking orders at the other officers who were frantically racing around the precinct trying to put together a last minute plan.

"Jackson! Did you get the coordinates?" He yelled when he saw his friend from across the room.

Jackson held up a piece of paper, "