"You owe me."

Cara didn't have to explain further: Raul didn't need reminders of her on her knees in the broom closet their last mission imploded in. They were still alive thanks to her fast thinking, so dignity be damned! She had to get him to say yes.

"Accompany you to a wedding? Why can't you go solo?" his hazel eyes looked worried. Not for her, but of her -- he was going to get dragged in one of her schemes again.

It had taken them a while to resume normal eye contact, always avoiding too much of it, making every work occasion they both attended even more awkward.

It didn't help how Cara completely zoned out during strategy meetings, ogling him every time he was too interested in a slideshow. His nickname El Oso fit him like a huge bear costume -- everything looked better on big men. Still, not the reason she wanted him there.

She wanted his help because modern problems required modern solutions.

"My ex is bringing someone. He never took me anywhere, three years together. And now he's got a new girlfriend, six months later? Bringing her to family-friendly events? I didn't know he was an only child until we broke up! Aaaand he's showing her off at a common friend's wedding?!"

"Didn't you two break up because you didn't want commitment? Maybe he found someone who does."

"After all those social media posts about how he got promoted?! Please!" Cara ignored the sting. "I won't let Dan win this breakup!"

"As much as I like weddings--"

"You like weddings?!" she stopped him.

"Food, drinks, happy people, what's not to like? It's also good preparation -- I plan to have one, one day."

"See? This is exactly why I want you to come with me. You say all the right things!"

He smiled at her shallowness, like it was always new to him, making her add, "It's not gonna work if you're faking it. I want you because you're exactly what would bother him."

They were both agents, so Cara knew the next logical question before she heard it.

"Why?"

Because he looked exactly like her type, minus the smarminess?

"He was weirdly jealous of... taller men," she avoided "good-looking" at the last moment. "Always comparing himself to others, going overboard at the gym. An agent that I worked with while we were together? Will definitely rattle him."

"He texted me to warn me," Cara pleaded, seeing how Raul was about to launch in one of his lectures about fair play. Not today, Satan. "So he knows he's got the upper hand, tries to act all benevolent and shit. The bastard!"

"Is there a theme?" Raul gave in.

"What?"

"A dress code, stuff like that?"

Cara hadn't read the invitation email, just the relevant part: what day of her life she'd never get back. She'd forgotten how he liked to be prepared.

"I'll forward you an endless thread."

She knew he'd handle it like a pro, it was why she told him everything. It was just how he operated.

***

Dressed in royal blue, Cara watched a sea of bridesmaids decorating the bride's photoshoot: the theme was Titanic -- The Movie Not The Tragedy. People still didn't get the movie was a tragedy.

A Celine Dion playlist screamed at every guest, reminding her how much nerve it took to demand attention like that, making her re-appreciate the diva's unapologetic dwelling on icky, sentimental love. Cara couldn't feel it, so she liked watching it, hearing about it.

And like in another old overused song, love was in the air, comfy shoes buried in the sand helping her enjoy the cozy feeling: she'd read the dress code and left her eight-inch platforms at home. She could enjoy a perfect day for a beach wedding, sunny and cool. The bride was working the breeze, posing as if God himself was holding a fan on her.

Next to Cara and made taller by her lack of heels, Raul had a black suit on, his bow tie same color as her dress. Matching the invitation, the tents, the decoration accents, and the bridal bouquet. She closed her eyes to take a break from it all.

"Cara, so nice to see you," she recognized Dan's voice, turning to see him glow in the sunlight like some tan Greek god, navy suit draped over what she knew was a toned body. "This is my boyfriend Jeremy."

The other handsome fellow seemed merged with Dan's suit, beaming, and not just because he was completely bald.

"I know this may be a surprise to you, it's why I wanted to talk. You never answered my text," Dan said.

Cara thought about what it all meant, wanting to ask if he also liked women or was it a coming out as gay thing, but she swallowed her questions. No one had ever asked her to detail her preferences in bed just because she'd brought a plus one to a wedding. The next worst thing came out of her mouth:

"Well, I now regret not discussing that threesome with you."

Dan and Jeremy stared at her, eyes wide, as she finished her less than stellar apology for not paying attention, "I always assumed it meant with another woman."

There wasn't really anything anyone could say to that, so she quickly added, "I mean, not now, in these circumstances... But you know... then."

It didn't make it better, but Dan didn't grill her, his hand took Jeremy's as he moved the conversation along, "It's better when everyone finds what they're actually looking for."

"I'm really happy for you," Cara said, warmed. "Even though you're clearly winning our breakup," she joked, it was good to see him happy. It made him less petty.

The couple laughed, Dan not that amused, "How am I winning our breakup? All you ever talked about our entire time together was how you didn't want to settle down. And I see you do, now?" he narrowed his eyes somewhere behind her.

"This is Raul," Cara started the introductions, reminded of her fake date.

When Raul stretched out his hand, Dan's voice peaked, "Is this the guy you--" he stopped with his eyes on a grandma who wasn't even trying to hide listening on their conversation, then he let his voice down, "On that mission?! When I was in Rome?!"

Raul was the only one who kept a straight face, slowly retracting his hand. He looked like he wanted to interject in her defense, even after she'd sexually molested him at work.

"You never told me that," Jeremy turned to Dan. "You only told me about that time she slept with that sheikh. You weren't kidding: worst girlfriend ever."

Insulted by how all three men were now laughing at her, Cara felt the need to explain herself, "I was undercover!"

"Clearly," Dan mocked her.

"Cara is a very dedicated agent. It's why she's a great one," she heard Raul say, back to being too serious.

The couple nodded absently, it was not something anyone could deny: she was a horrible girlfriend, but her cases got closed, one way or the other.

Dan straightened to signal he had more important things to do. Every time a conversation got to her side of the argument, he completely lost interest. Good luck, Jeremy, Cara thought, reminded of why she and her ex would've never worked.

"If you'll excuse us, it's my favorite song," Raul touched her stomach to turn her around, "I was thinking maybe we could dance?"

***

"You like My Heart Will Go On?" Cara asked, once on the sand-polished floorboards. The dancefloor had been installed inside a white tent with blue waves decorating its lower half, bar tables shaped like icebergs surrounding it. It was a larger version of the makeshift door-raft Rose had occupied while leaving poor Jack to freeze to death. The newlyweds were confident enough in their odds of success that they'd attached their union to a famous shipwreck. Cara would've never risked the glorious divorce memes.

"I just wanted to get you out of that conversation," Raul said. "I like all slow songs, they're the only ones I can dance to."

"They're the only ones I can't dance to," Cara laughed, pulled closer. She had been keeping away, it was easier when they weren't touching too much. Her brain melted every time he put his hands on her, they burned through her dress like bear paw imprints on a trail someone had poured lava over. "It's like... two people holding each other, wandering in slow motion."

"Exactly," he said, over her head. "Anyone can do it."

"I keep looking down to check that I'm still on the raft," she joked to take her mind off him holding her back too straight, she was afraid to lean into him. "I can't believe anyone thought this was a good idea for a wedding. All I can think of is: I'm freezing my ass off while the love of my life dies? And then what? I die when I'm eighty, miserable, holding a necklace?"

She felt him laugh, his body shaking hers, so she separated to look up to him, instantly regretting it because she met amusement, "Of course that when you think about that scene you see yourself as the survivor," his eyebrows taunted her.

"You don't?!"

"I'm also freezing my ass off, but in the water."

"You would die for someone?" Cara couldn't believe it. "Is this an 'honorable man' thing?"

"I'm just saying, it just feels like the better option, instead of knowing someone had to die so that I'd live. I don't think I'd enjoy living with the guilt. I'm the coward," he went all teeth like in a toothpaste commercial. What was he selling her?

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I don't care if you're the love of my life, I will fight you to get on that raft!" Cara said -- immediately wishing for an undo button.

He wasn't that shocked, he didn't stop smiling, "Hey, no one can know what they'd do in a life-or-death situation. Not without living through it. Maybe I'll completely lose it, and step on women and children to save myself."

Cara laughed, she didn't think it was true. If there was someone she felt safe with in her missions, despite her propensity for inviting bad luck, it was him.

It was why she had to make him see, "I'm just not that person who would die for someone."

"I kinda like that you're not," he surprised her.

"You like that I'm self-centered?"

He tightened his arms around her again, "I get overprotective, so I'm happy when people take care of themselves. It makes my life easier. I go on a mission with you and I have zero fears you won't be able to weasel your way out of anything you get yourself into. Makes everything better," he grinned.

Cara didn't answer, it was dawning on her how maybe they weren't such a bad match. For how long, and how would they work together?

"If I die for a woman, I'd rather she's the kind of woman who just moves on after surviving the Titanic," he pulled her closer, helped by how she didn't exactly oppose despite desperately wanting to. "Living her best life. I want her happy, not to mourn my loss forever."

"But if you both live, you get that woman, every day," Cara worried out loud. "And she's not really the forever type."

"Yeah," he said. "With that kind of determination? I'm not worried she can't be. I just have to make her want to."

Like in one of his thoroughly planned missions, where nothing surprised him. Cara couldn't imagine him on a personal one, with higher stakes.

He leaned over to kiss her, and she didn't pull away. There was no point, they'd worked together too many times. She knew he always closed his cases, too.