10-7 In Station

Dean entered the room; everyone was looking at him except for Allie. She already knew he was there; she didn't need to look. She could hear the swish-swish of his black vinyl field jacket and his cologne's stubble scent. It was vaguely familiar. He headed straight towards her. The swish-swish growing louder. She never raised her head.

Look who just walked in.

Malibu, go the fuck away.

Hey, you are the one who is keeping me here

Again, Malibu, go the fuck away.

"Kingston, right?" Dean asked.

"Dan, right? she replied.

"Just call me Carron, Agent Carron, or Dean. You can call me Dean. Dean works for me, but you can call me whatever you want."

"Carron, if you're going to work with Kingston, you better become fluent in her native languages, sarcasm, and smart ass," Bruss said.

You should have remembered insults. She is a master of insults.

"We weren't properly introduced. I'm Bruss. I drew the short straw. I'm the guy who follows her around. I also speak fluent sarcasm and smart ass. I have a double major. If you ever need an interpreter."

They shook hands.

"Good to know," he nodded.

"Have we met before? You look familiar?"

Yeah, he does, doesn't he?

He spoke into Bruss's ear, not that he could hear him.

"Maybe you've seen me on the street or around the area. I work right down the block at the federal building." Dean said.

Don't you hate the federal building Caretaker? I remember hearing that somewhere.

And once again, Malibu go the fuck away.

Dean motioned to an empty chair. Bruss replied with the same gesture. Dean rolled the chair closer to Allie's desk.

Bruss smiled. He could tell Dean was attracted to her. His body said it loud and clear. He watched as he leaned in close to her, resting his elbow on her desk. Bruss knew she didn't appreciate people invading her personal space.

"You're not a stripper. Get off my lap," she said.

Malibu mumbled to himself.

You were one the last time you saw him.

He sat straight up.

"Oh please, you couldn't afford me."

His eyes were fixed on her face. Those stunning blue-gray eyes looked like a storm approaching the ocean. He looked deep into them that night. He remembered her soft, clear porcelain skin and wanted to brush his fingers against it and kiss her softly. When she turned to look at him, a wisp of her long golden-brown hair floated down out of her clip. It smelled just like he had remembered. He had the impulse to sweep it back behind her ear. He decided against it. She might break his hand. Instead of cleaning the stray hair behind her ear, she blew on it; it flew straight up and out of her face.

She could feel him staring at her. She raised her eyes and looked at him.

"I can autograph a photo for you," she offered.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I have seen you somewhere before."

"I'm confident that if I have ever seen you before, I wouldn't forget."

Malibu muttered.

You have no idea how wrong you are right now.

"I definitely wouldn't forget you either. Maybe I've seen you around town because I know your face," Dean said.

She lifted her head and stared at him for a couple of seconds.

"Nope. Sorry Cowboy. I got nothing."

Cowboy? Come on! Doesn't remember me at all? She's called me Dan, Cowboy. We are one lap dance short of repeating that night, he thought.

"Is there a specific reason you're here?" she asked.

"My boss wanted me to see if you've heard anything about the victim."

"You could have just called the coroner's office. Ask for Makayla."

"Yeah, good point. Maybe I wanted to see where you and Bruss worked."

"Well, it's not as grand as the castle down the street."

"The castle? You mean the federal building?"

"Yeah, I hate that fucking building."

"I think I've heard that before," he said.

She put her pen down and looked at him.

"You seem like a really good guy, so I'm going to be straight with you, Dan--"

"Dean."

"Yeah, whatever; if you need something," she went into her drawer, pulled out a business card, and handed it to him, "you can just call. You don't have to make a special trip."

"I really don't mind. I prefer to do things face-to-face. I like to look people in the eyes when I talk to them."

"Oh really? So, you would make a special trip to look into my eyes."

He thought that I would crawl across a football field filled with broken glass to look into your eyes.

"They are beautiful eyes," he said.

He couldn't believe that he just said that out loud.

She smiled softly, "Thank you, Cowboy," she blushed.

Ah, you're blushing. I didn't know you were capable of real human emotions.

I know I'm capable of anger, Malibu, and you are causing me to produce much of it right now.

Allie sat straight up and looked at her paperwork.

Was it something I said?

Thank you for reminding me to stop acting like a teenager crushing on a guy.

You're crushing on him!

You know what Malibu—

I know. Go the fuck away.

I am sorry, but a chapter was skipped. Please go back and read For One Night Only. I must have