Disclaimer: Anyone you don't know I created. Also, my apologies to both the real MI-5 and C.I.S.I.S. (Canadian Security Intelligence Service). I am not making any profit whatsoever off this little venture.

Author's notes: 1. This story (at least this part) as been festering in my brain since I saw the season's finale, and at long last I have a place to post it (yay !).
2. This takes place shortly after Tom 'walked into sea.'
3. ""= Dialogue, ''= thoughts.

So here it is, a story with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Chapter #1: She heaved a heavy sigh as she opened the door to the embassy and began making her way to her office up on the 3rd floor. She had just come from the funeral. Funerals in the intelligence community hit her hard, especially this one. This one was for her friend Tom. She could hardly believe he was gone, that she'll never see those gorgeous blue eyes light up again as he saw her or as he told a joke. The eyes were closed now for good. She heaved a second heavy sigh as the elevator door opened to her floor. She took her sunglasses off as she walked down the hall towards the reception area.

"Any messages Danielle?" She asked her British receptionist.

"Yes two. One from the Prime Minister's office. They requested you call them back, something about making arrangements for the Commonwealth summit. And the second call was from Ruth Evershed at MI-5. She wanted to know if you were okay. How was the funeral?" she asked her voice growing quiet.

"Sad. Somber. It's a sobering thought to lose one of your colleagues, and friends. I'll be in my office." she replied as she moved past the reception area and towards the solid maple door of my office. She moved towards the curtains behind her desk-she had a beautiful view of London and it was a day she wanted to enjoy despite the circumstances. She paused as she neared the solid oak desk. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Something wasn't right she slowly turned back around.

"It took you long enough." A familiar voice stated as its owner rose casually to stand in front of her.

"What the..." the expletive died on her lips as her voice died in disbelief. She was silent for several minutes. 'I must be seeing things, or have fallen asleep at my desk or hungry. I wonder if I blink he'll go away.' She thought to herself. She blinked. 'Nope he's still here'. I'm definitely not seeing things.' He broke the silence.

"You know Jamie you should have better security around this place. The ease with which I was able to..." He began.

"You're supposed to be dead. And you're not. You're standing here in front of me. And I, I just came from your funeral. I mourned for you. Your other friends mourned for you. Zoe, and Danny. And yet here you are standing right in front of me, as plain as day. As if you are just coming for a social call." Jamie finished anger showing in her emerald-green eyes.

"I know. I owe you an explanation. And you'll get one, later." He replied.

"No, not later. I want one now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just call MI-5 right now and tell them that their golden boy didn't really walk into the sea and die." Jamie demanded.

"Because that's who I believe is setting me up. And I need your help" He replied, his voice becoming meek.

"Oh I should be marking this one on a calendar. Tom Quinn, mighty former second-in-command of MI-5 admitting that he needs help. And I should be extremely privileged that you should choose me of all people a Canadian." Jamie said sarcastically. She moved to sit down at her desk. There was silence as each settled into a chair. Jamie twirled a piece of her shoulder length brown hair as the silence deepened. She looked into his sky-blue eyes.

"Alright I'll bite. Who do you think is setting you up?" Jamie asked.

"I told you, MI-5." Tom replied. Jamie's hand went towards the phone.

"They're only a phone call..." Jamie began as she moved to pick up the phone.

"Tessa Noel. The name of the agent that I believe is setting me up." Tom cut her off.

"There now, was that so hard." Jamie said mockingly reaching over the table to tap him on the shoulder.

"The first step is always the hardest. Now step two: Why was she setting you up?" Jamie followed up.

"Oh where do begin... She's a renegade agent. She set up phony contacts, and Zoe called her on it. She told Harry what Tessa was doing. There was nothing done about it. Tessa continued to do it. She put one of the field agents in danger. I had no choice but to discipline her. So I suspended her from the service pending disciplinary hearing. She quit on her own. That was a year ago." Tom said.

"That's a great theory, and I find myself agreeing with it. There's motive and opportunity. But there's also something else. Something you're not telling me." Jaime said, the suspicion, and frustration beginning to show in her tone. Tom was silent.

"Listen, let's get one thing perfectly straight: If you want my help, you will be totally and completely honest with me, now. If not, then we have nothing more to say to each other, and I will turn you over to MI-5." Jamie said, as she sat back, a defiant gaze meeting Tom's gaze. Tom sighed as the realization came to him that she had him on that point. He needed her. So with that in mind, he began part two of his explanation.

"Of course, you're right. What we say cannot go beyond these walls. My safety depends on it." Tom began.

"That's why they're soundproof. Now continue with your harrowing tale." Jamie replied.

"I believe she may have teamed up with one of my many enemies. A CIA agent whose daughter I was told to recruit for a mission. Let's just sum it up with the fact that she wasn't cut out for undercover work, and her mental state paid a steep price for it. He wanted revenge, so did Tessa, and Tessa had the money, as well as the connections to set me up." Tom finished.

"Sounds logical to me, but do you have any proof." Jamie replied.

"That's where you come in. I want you to befriend someone at MI-5, and then see what you can find out through them." He explained.

"Couldn't I just use my position as head of the London bureau of CISIS to do that?" Jamie asked.

"No. They would see right through that, and it wouldn't be good enough to get the kind of information I'm looking for." Tom explained.

"I think I can manage that. Anything else?" Jaime asked.

"Yes. Would you check on Harry Palmer for me? I shot him, and I want to know if he's okay." Tom answered.

Jaime sighed: "I can do that. One head of service checking on another should be seen as just professional courtesy. And now I have one last thing to ask you: Why me? Why not somebody within MI-5, or even the C.I.A., why a Canadian?"

'Note to self ask him why he shot Harry later.' Jaime made a mental note.

"Because Canadians have the reputation of being blunt, and honest. As well, they are not known for having secret agendas." Tom explained.

'This guy obviously has not met our politicians.' Jamie thought to herself.

"It appears that your sweet-talk has got yourself a partner-in-crime. Now when, and how shall I contact you?" Jamie asked.

"Don't. I'll be in touch." And with that Tom rose from seat, and left the office. He muttered to Danielle: "As far as you're concerned..."

"You were never here. Got it." Danielle finished. She looked at her boss inquiringly.

"Get me Ruth Evershed on the phone please." She told Danielle as she shut the door.

Well: Questions? Comments? Any barbs or constructive criticisms?

Shall I continue with this story?

Let me know through your reviews. -AB