She looked over at him as he shifted in his sleep. She was glad he was finally getting some rest. She’d keep an eye on him. When he
profiled he didn’t look after himself at all. Hopefully they wouldn’t call him again for a long time.
She turned back to the highway. For some reason she was reminded of the first time she'd seen him in person. She had squared her
shoulders and forced herself to knock on the subterranean lair he inhabited alone.
He had looked up at her with those glasses and her heart had stuttered. It had been a purely physical reaction. Now she knew she wasn’t
alone in noticing the man. Very few women were able to refrain from checking him out. Most of the time he seemed oblivious, but
occasionally . . . She had put it down to nerves at the time. This was going to be a working relationship and her 'duties', while not made
crystal clear, had been obvious. Debunk the man's work.
He had looked so innocent and earnest; nearly as innocent as she had been at the time. That was so long ago, so many heartaches ago -
before Melissa or Emily or her cancer . . . No, don’t go there.
She’d never had a partner before. She’d had no idea what the relationship would entail. Such things weren’t necessary at Quantico. She’d
been unprepared as with so many things when becoming a field agent. The romanticism had dissipated on the first trip - even before the
motel had burned down.
When she had first relived that trip at the beginning of everything, she’d been mortified at her actions. Racing to his room in her robe, over
some bumps on her back. But he had handled it with charm and . . . she looked over at him as he shifted slightly in the seat. She’d never
asked him what he’d thought of her actions. Now, he’d no doubt give her a leer and toss out an innuendo regarding parading around in her
underwear, but at the time he had put her at ease, pushed away her embarrassment and actually opened up to her.
Aliens. She hadn’t laughed then and of course she couldn’t now. Everything was different now. Years. She had spent years with this man.
She cared for him - no, hell, she loved him. Loved him. Gee Dana, what was your first clue?
They had been so young. She’d been amused back then, at his outrageous theories, his intuition. That was before it had saved her life so
many times.
All these years with the man and he still intrigued her, pulled at her. She’d known she was in love with him for a long time now, but there was
nothing to do about it. Hell, she knew he loved her too, to the best of his abilities.
The man didn’t think like that. He was obsessed with other things, not relationships. This wasn’t so bad, though. She got to spend time with
the man she wanted and they had fascinating times, work related but never the less fascinating.
Much more so than any of the ‘dates’ she had attempted in recent memory. Here, with him asleep beside her, she could admit that. He had
spoiled other men for her and he didn’t even know it. It wasn’t fair - he could ogle other women anytime, hell it was expected.
Wait, back up Dana. He might look, but if she was fair, it was her he called in the middle of the night; her he brought pizza to and hung out
with, her he . . . he loved.
He shifted again and his hand came to rest on her thigh. She looked over to see his eyes open, watching her. “I do you know.”
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