A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so glad you're taking a chance on this fic. This is my first story involving one of my favorite couples, PerSalle or LaPercy (whatever we want to call it, has the fandom decided?) and it is told through Sonja's point of view. I hope this helps give everyone some feels during this long hiatus after the epic moment they shared in the finale! Season 3 will be insane. If you have any prompts, please let me know and I'll see what I can do with them. Thank you.

Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or locations mentioned.

…

Sonja Percy was only six days into her two-week vacation away from work and the unanticipated time off was a welcomed relief. Things had been more than tense ever since the team learned there was a mole within the ranks and after that it was almost a domino effect. There was the submarine accident, agent Russo, narrowly defusing the bomb on the riverboat- LaSalle. What was that all about? Sonja hadn't let herself process her feelings just yet. Maybe she was overthinking it. It was a harmless hug, after all. But Sonja knew, deep down, there was something else lingering in the air between them. That look in his eyes was enough to cause any woman to lose their breath. What the hell could be going on with him? What the hell is going on with HER?

Those were questions Sonja had absolutely no problem saving for another day, as she lazily snuggled her blankets around her pajama-clad body. It was a bright, sunny afternoon in beautiful New Orleans and Sonja was enjoying the quietness of her empty house while watching one of her favorite TV shows with a bowl of vegan ice cream.

"God, this is nice," she mumbled in-between bites. "I haven't had this much sleep in like, two hundred years."

The past six days had been nothing but sleep, food, relaxation, and repeat. Sonja was pretty sure Brody was having just as much of a good time soaking up sun in Key West due to the occasional pictures she sent her which had her belly-laughing. Pride, on the other hand, hadn't sent her a single text or called once over the teams hiatus. Though, the most surprising thing of all, was the impending silence she was receiving from LaSalle. It was typical of him to shoot her a text maybe twice a day or call her after work and annoy her until she hung up with a smile on her face. Sonja would never admit it to anyone, but six whole days without hearing Christopher LaSalle's voice was kind of disappointing after everything that had happened between them…Nope. Stop it, Sonja. The last thing she needed was that Bama Boy getting further underneath her skin. This time off was supposed to be about her, and her only. A self-rejuvenation.

As Sonja lifted another spoonful of 'Triple Chocolate Brownie Dream' to her lips, the cellphone on her dresser began clattering with vibration. She briefly contemplated remaining in her cozy nest, as opposed to rolling to the end of her bed to scoop up the device located across the room, but decided against it. With a reluctant sigh, she forced herself to retrieve it, leaving her ice cream and blankets behind. Before her arms even extended to pick up the phone, she could see a picture of the caller plastered across the screen. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest and she immediately regretted leaving the safety of her bed. Well, well. Speak of the devil. The picture was beyond ridiculous, secretly taken a few months back while Sonja left her desk to gather up some evidence for Pride. In the short amount of time she was absent, LaSalle took it upon himself to take the dumbest selfie of all time, tongue sticking out and everything. When she found it set as his icon in her phone later that night, she ripped him a new one about 'boundaries' and 'privacy' as he was practically rolling on the floor laughing telling her to lighten up. Even after that long talk, Sonja couldn't bring herself to delete it. And now, here it was, staring at her with that goofy face.

Suddenly, the vibration stopped, and the picture went away. A notification appeared reading, '1 missed call: Chris LaSalle.' Sonja shook her head and turned on her heel towards the kitchen. Why didn't she answer? Hadn't she been waiting for this call for days now? Sonja pulled open the refrigerator grabbed a bottle of water. Taking a sip, she sent a troubled glance across the room. If the call was about something important, he would leave a message, and she would listen and decide whether or not it deserved a call back. Otherwise, another episode of her show was starting and her delicious bowl of ice cream needed consumed before melting. Nodding in agreement with herself, Sonja went over to her room and took a peek at her phone. 'No new voicemails.' With a satisfied shrug she plopped back into bed, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as she dug into the rest of her food.

Not even ten minutes later, her phone on the dresser resumed jumping with vibrations. Sonja groaned, her head flopping backward into the bedpost. Shoving her ice cream away, she remained wrapped in the blanket as she drug herself to the end of the bed, her bare feet hitting the floor. She didn't have to look far to see that damn face staring back at her. Sonja yanked the phone to her ear in agitation.

"What is it, LaSalle?" she grumbled, biting her lip. She heard him make a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff.

"Well hello to you too, Percy. I thought after all this time you'd be jumpin' to grab your phone instead of ignorin' my calls."

"Oh yeah, we haven't talked in ages," she deflected. "Besides, what makes you think I ignored your call?"

"You've gotta be kiddin' me. Remember the time you went under-cover and I sent you tons of text messages and your excuse was you were 'too busy' to answer me?"

It was Sonja's turn to scoff. "Knock it off, LaSalle. You know I told you I was trying to protect my identity."

He exuded a lighthearted laugh. "You're right, I know. Just wanted to give ya a hard time."

A few moments of silence ticked by before Sonja cleared her throat.

"So, what's up? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Everythin's good. Just been hangin' with my boys, doin' this and that."

"And by 'this and that,' do you mean women?" she prodded with a smirk.

"Hmmm, I didn't know my personal life mattered that much to ya, City Mouse."

Sonja slapped a hand to her forehead. God. There he goes again! Digging deeper underneath my skin. Why did she have to set herself up like that? LaSalle's recent antics were on the brink of driving her crazy. After a pause, she crawled back into bed and muted the TV, the blanket still wrapped securely around her.

"I'm surprised you stayed in New Orleans, I figured you would be out of here as quick as possible," Sonja continued, quickly changing the subject. She imagined him strutting around cocky as hell at her silence on the matter.

"Nah, I'm not much for goin' to the beach or nothin' like that. My brother is sorta off doin' his own thing so I couldn't really meet up with him. But that's okay, you know? I gotta cold beer and a warm bed so my life ain't lookin' too bad."

"Yeah, I hear that. I've barely even left my own bed, to be honest. I love days like these where life slows down to the point where you can actually enjoy the little stuff."

"Amen!"

She heard him shuffling his phone around creating static in the receiver.

"What in the world are you doing?"

"I haven't spent much time in my own house for weeks now, bein' busy with work, and the place is a dump. Clothes and what-not everywhere. Plus I had a few guests over last night, so, I'm just tryin' to clean up a bit."

Sonja scowled. He wants me to ask if they were women, doesn't he?

"Mhm, sounds interesting. Is that all?" she deadpanned, meaning to end the conversation.

"Nope. I'm doin' a lil' paintin' as well. It's a nice day for it."

Sonja loudly exhaled, annoyed with his cheery disposition.

"Is this the only reason you called, Christopher? To catch me up on your daily activities?"

"Shoot, I don't know. What if I just miss seein' that pretty lil' face of yours?"

"You're such an ass," she groaned, smiling involuntarily. "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait! Sonja! Hold on a minute, will ya?" he pleaded.

She rolled her eyes with impatience.

"Okay, you've got yourself one minute, LaSalle. Start talking."

The shuffling came to a halt as she heard an exasperated sigh.

"Damn it woman, I called you because I was wonderin' if you would like to grab a beer with me later tonight. Hang out a bit. What'dya say to that?"

Silence.

"Percy? Hello?"

"Uh- yeah. I'm here. Sorry."

"Is somethin' wrong? Did I upset you?"

Sonja hushed him.

"God, no, LaSalle. It's not that."

"Oh. You're busy tonight, then?"

"I- um, no. Nope. I'm not busy."

Sonja sunk into her pillows with a million thoughts whirling through her mind.

"Cool. So what time am I pickin' ya up?"

Sonja's eyes popped out of her head. This was escalating quickly.

"Picking me up- what? Whoa. Pump the brakes here tiger, this is sounding a hell of a lot like a date to me."

"Pssh don't flatter yourself now, Percy. This ain't no different than you and I goin' out to Pride's bar with the team after work, throwin' back some beers, talkin' about the day's happenin's. We've done that hundreds of times."

"Yeah, except for the part where we aren't at work, and we won't be with our friends. It'll be- just us. Alone. Together. That's different."

"Hey, come on. Don't make it weird now! It won't be too different. Anyways, hangin' out at a joint filled with a handful of drunks pukin' all over the place ain't exactly what I would call 'romantic.' Trust me, it'll be nothin' but fun. No funny business."

Sonja took a moment to think it over and sighed in defeat. She wasn't getting out of this. She would just have to hold her breath, muster up some courage, and trust him. She did trust him, didn't she?

"Okay, okay. I'm in."

"That's the spirit!" he encouraged. "Stop worryin' yourself over nothin'. Besides, if I was takin' you on a date it would be fairly obvious. You forget who you're talkin' to."

She snickered. "Oh, do I? Hm, I believe your minute up is up Christopher LaSalle. Finish your chores and I'll see you at eight."

"Whatever you say, partner. See ya then!"

…

It was a quarter until eight o'clock and Sonja had her entire closet laid out on her bed. Earlier in the day, she decided she would keep things simple and wear her hair down and apply minimal makeup, which seemed like a pretty easy decision. Clothes, however, were another story. Why is this suddenly so difficult? Sonja thought her hands would reach into her closet and pull out her usual work attire, like always, except this time they didn't. For some odd reason they chose a tight black dress with a plunging neckline. The next time she reached in, she pulled out jeans and an off-the-shoulder blouse. By the next time she reached in, Sonja was too scared to look. Appearance wise, she had never worried about how she looked to anyone, much less LaSalle, her work partner. He had adamantly stated that tonight was not a date, just simply two friends hanging out together. What was so hard to understand about that? It bothered Sonja that the dynamic between them was changing, evolving, and moreover it scared her. The encounter between them prior to vacation had been on her mind ever since that moment and she was positive she wasn't ready to dive into that yet. LaSalle probably had no idea that he caused what she was going through, and more likely wouldn't even understand it if she were to discuss it with him. Which would embarrass her to death. Why couldn't things have stayed like they always were? Why did he have to care so damn much?

At the last minute, Sonja decided on a cotton halter dress that wasn't too short or too long. She paired that with her favorite worn-in leather jacket and some ankle boots. She took a quick peek at herself in her full length mirror and nodded with approval. Hopefully LaSalle wouldn't give her too much of a hard time for switching up her wardrobe.

Five minutes until eight, a knock sounded at Sonja's front door. With a deep breath she grabbed her handbag and went to greet her guest. Swinging the door open, she saw him leaned up against the porch's railing completely at ease, one hand in his jean pocket. He wore a black, form-fitting Henley t-shirt with a noticeable amount of buttons undone. His skin seemed more tanned than usual.

He smiled, his eyes quickly surveying her looks.

"A dress, huh?"

"Uh- yeah. It's comfortable." she shrugged, slightly defensive. "What's wrong with it?"

LaSalle shook his head, putting his hands up in defense.

"Nothin'. Nothin' at all. It's just a lil' unexpected considerin' the circumstances."

Sonja crossed her arms, raising a brow. LaSalle titled his head in the direction of his truck, beckoning her to follow him. She stayed glued to her porch until she finally locked the door and took her time wandering over to the vehicle.

"Oh really? And what 'circumstances' are you referring?"

LaSalle bit back a smile as he crossed in front of her, jogging over to open her door to his truck. Sonja paused to send him a weary glance before climbing into her seat.

"I'm referrin' to the fact that this ain't supposed to be a date," he chimed, shutting her door with mischievous eyes.

LaSalle had the air conditioner on low and the radio set on a country station. Sonja could faintly smell the musk of his cologne mixing with the leather of the seats. It was a familiar scent due to the fact that this was the truck they usually shared at work, and somehow it began to calm her nerves. LaSalle then opened his own door and slid into the seat, a smile on his lips.

"This isn't supposed to be a date yet you take the time to open my door? Since when do you do that?"

LaSalle shifted the truck's gear to reverse and glimpsed her direction, his demeanor playful.

"Maybe we're both tryin' new things, huh?"

Sonja locked eyes with him for a few seconds before turning away, peering out into the distance at the impending street lights and scenery. New Orleans seemed lively tonight.

"The dress looks good."

"What?"

"Your dress. I'm sorry if I started off on the wrong foot, I'm tryin' to start over."

"Don't worry about it, okay? I'm used to you being a bone-head."

LaSalle shook his head with a grin.

"You're supposed to say 'thank you', ya know that right?"

"Mhmmm."

…

Fifteen minutes had passed as they left Sonja's neighborhood and made their way through the French Quarter. Decadent smells of fresh food and the sounds of many different instruments filled the air. The stars in the night sky created a perfect glow over the city. Sonja assumed she knew their destination until LaSalle drove past Pride's bar without a hesitation. She made a puzzled expression, nudging him in his shoulder.

"Hey, where are we going? I thought we would be heading over to Pride's based on what we talked about earlier."

LaSalle shifted anxiously in the seat, switching hands on the steering wheel.

"Well, a buddy o' mine told about this new jazz club downtown. It's only been open for a week or two and I thought we might check it out." He paused, gaging her reaction. "But it's totally up to you, I can turn around and go back if you want."

Sonja took a deep breath, she had a feeling she would be doing that much of the night, and gripped the handbag in her lap.

"No, it's okay. We're trying new things, right?"

LaSalle beamed in her direction.

"Right. Like I said before, nothin' but fun."

Sonja could handle fun. Couldn't she? Fun wasn't complex, or scary. Fun is something that should be easy to do without thinking too hard.

…

The club was surrounded by cars lining the streets in every direction, not to mention the crowds of people waiting in line to get in. By the looks of it, Sonja had no doubt it would take hours for them to even get past the front entrance.

"Oh my God, everyone in New Orleans must be here tonight! We're never going to get in," she assured LaSalle, leaning forward over the dashboard to get a better view.

He chuckled, then made a 'tsk tsk' sound before slowly parking the truck in a recently vacated spot.

"You underestimate me, Percy."

Sonja furrowed her brows at his response as he jumped out the truck with a wink.

In a flash, LaSalle had her door open and held up a hand to assist her out of the vehicle. Sonja stared down at him for a second then rolled her eyes, taking his hand as she exited her seat.

"How exactly do I underestimate you?"

LaSalle shut her door and gently coaxed her across the street and towards the entrance, pushing past several agitated people waiting in line. Sonja flipped around and grabbed his arm, eyes wide.

"What in the hell are you doing?! Do you think you can just flash them your badge and they'll let us through?"

LaSalle ignored her grievances and gave another wink, as he turned her back around and continued to move forward. People shouted nasty comments and some even shoved until they ended up face to face with the bouncer at the door. Sonja gulped, eyes flicking to LaSalle for answers.

"Name?" the bouncer asked, voice rumbly and low as he pulled out a clipboard.

"LaSalle," he nodded, reaching over to point at the paper. "It should be a reservation for two."

Sonja's jaw hit the floor. LaSalle didn't have to look hard to notice.

"Yep, I see the reservation right here. You two enjoy your night," the bouncer smiled, stepping aside to usher them in.

Sonja was in complete disbelief, mouth still hanging open. LaSalle couldn't help but laugh as he guided her through the door and into the club. She was having a difficult time uttering a sound.

"Are you gonna be okay? Do I need to order some drinks?"

"Yes," Sonja managed to reply. "Many, many drinks."

After they found a table located in a snug corner of the room, Sonja took in the surroundings. The club was beautifully constructed, the bar being an interesting shape, winding through the middle of the room. Small, square tables were scattered throughout and one wall contained a row of booths. Eclectic light fixtures dazzled the ceiling, taking focus in the dimly lit room. However, the most exciting feature of the establishment was the stage located at the back of the club, which contained the jazz band. The music wasn't too loud and the singer was pleasant to the ear. A few couples were even dancing. Overall, it was perfect.

Sonja gulped down the beer in her hand and turned to LaSalle who was nodding his head along with the melody, completely absorbed into the atmosphere. She roughly hit his arm.

"Okay Romeo, do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about? You made us a freaking reservation? I thought this wasn't a date!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, Sonja! I promised you this ain't a date and it ain't! I had to make a reservation or there'd be no way we'd ever make it in here."

She eyed him.

"Whatever happened to 'a handful of drunks puking all over the place' and 'hanging out at a bar'? From what you described earlier I didn't think we would end up at a place like this."

LaSalle attempted to hide a smile as he brought his beer to his lips.

"Alright, maybe a fibbed a lil' bit so you wouldn't turn me down."

"You had this planned the whole time, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"Unbelievable," she sighed, finishing her drink. She motioned for the waitress to order her another.

"What if I didn't want to come here and made you take me to Pride's? What would you have done then?" she asked.

"Then I would've taken you to Pride's. No big deal," he grinned.

Sonja groaned as she leaned back in her chair.

"You really gotta lighten up a bit, Percy. From what I can tell it seems like you really like this place, so quit stressin' and just enjoy it. We're tryin' new things, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. This place is nothing like the Gargoyle Club, that's for sure," she mumbled.

LaSalle laughed and lifted his drink in agreement.

The waitress swooped by, handing Sonja another beer. She thanked her and took another big sip. Sonja would need a good amount of liquor in her to be able to withstand Christopher LaSalle for the rest of the night.

…

"God, it seems like just yesterday you were transferin' from ATF and Brody was super-gluin' your badge shut," he teased, taking another shot of tequila. Sonja threw a lime at him with a faux scowl.

"Yeah, real funny. Those were the days."

LaSalle picked up the discarded lime and sucked out the juice.

"Lil' did we all know, you were no regular agent, but one secretly trained in ninja moves like disarmin' bombs and what not."

"It's not really a secret LaSalle, it was part of my job description."

Sonja swiped one of his shot glasses and threw it back, downing the liquor in one go.

"The ninja part is true though," she grinned, shedding her jacket.

"Looks like someone's loosenin' up and finally havin' some fun," he shined.

The club had raged on well into the night and Sonja could guess that the jazz band was playing their tenth song right about then. Guests were beginning to leave their tips and depart for their homes, ready to crash into a long slumber. Christopher and Sonja had gone through three mugs of beer each and several shots of tequila, not to mention the various mixed drinks their waitress had them taste. Sonja was glad, and mostly relieved, that the time they spent together wasn't awkward at all, but rather relaxed and easygoing. To soak up all the alcohol they were consuming, Sonja had ordered chips and guacamole which helped the sickening feeling rising in her stomach after so many drinks.

"I thought you would be someone pretty easy to figure out, but now after these months that I've gotten to know ya, that just ain't the case," LaSalle announced, popping a chip in his mouth.

"I can say the same thing about you, Scuba Boy," Sonja winked.

"Hey, we all have our secrets and hidden talents!"

"You're right, we do."

LaSalle playfully leaned in across the table.

"Is there anything else you learned at ATF that I should know about?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

He paused, a smile washing over his face.

"I don't much like surprises."

"That makes two of us," Sonja replied, clinking her glass against his as she took a shot.

As the waitress breezed by gesturing to the bar for another round, LaSalle wrinkled his nose with a shake of his head.

"Nah, I think we're about to the water portion of the night, thanks," he told her.

"Getting soft on me again, LaSalle?" Sonja smirked, raising a new drink to her lips. He grabbed the glass from her hand, sitting the drink on an abandoned table.

"I told you, I'm not soft. This time I'm bein' responsible. You've gone over your tequila limit."

"Being responsible by ruining me having a good time?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I feel fine, I just have a little stomach ache, is all."

"No, we've been havin' a good time. Now you just gotta let your stomach settle until we figure out how to chill until one of us is sober enough to drive home."

"You would let me drive the truck? Seriously?" Sonja laughed.

LaSalle made a pouting face, reminding her of a four year old child.

"No, well- yeah, I guess. If it came down to it. But just so you know, I wouldn't be happy about it one bit."

"Boys and their toys," she sighed, with a grin.

As the night carried on into the early hours of the morning, the jazz band alerted the remaining guests that they were beginning to play their final song. Sonja turned in her chair to get a better view of the stage, the lights dimming lower on the dance floor. The song was slow, and soulful. The singer's voice was hauntingly beautiful. It brought back memories of the time she, herself, sang at Pride's bar way back during the holidays. That was something she never really planned on doing, but just sort of happened in the best of ways. It was a memory she would treasure forever.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong, reassuring hands take her own, pulling her away from her seat and towards the dance floor.

"Come on, Sonja. I've got an idea."

"Christopher, what do you think you're doing? I can't dance!" she protested, attempting to tug out of his grasp.

"Neither can I! But seein' how there's barely anyone here, I figure we got nothin' to lose. You wanna be sober enough to get out of here, right?"

"Yeah, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Then we'll dance until we're sober. Easy Peasy."

"LaSalle…"

"Remember what we're doin'? tryin'-''

"-New things. I know," she whispered. "You're insane."

"Maybe, but at the moment I'm drunk. Now be quiet and dance with me, will ya?" he implored, finally placing them in the center of the dance floor.

He waited for Sonja to make eye contact with him and give a nod of approval before he wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her free hand in his other. They moved in time with the music, him leading, while Sonja stared up at him in fascination, an arm around his neck. He gazed down at her with a tender smile, clearly enjoying the fact that he willingly coaxed a dance out of 'rough-around-the-edges Agent Percy.' They stayed like this for such a while that Sonja felt as though she were floating through time and space.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I will kill you," she eventually muttered, upholding her steely reputation. She pressed herself closer against his body, head down.

"You don't have to hide. You got nothin' to be embarrassed about, Percy. You're a pretty fine dancer."

"You are too, for someone who says they have no dance experience."

"Well," he chuckled, clearing his throat. "I kind of do. I know the basics, at least. Ladies tend to appreciate a man who knows his way around the dance floor."

"So you've pulled the 'let's dance until we're sober' card on many women, huh?"

"No, actually. I thought of that just for you."

Sonja squeezed her lips together as she felt her heart begin to thud, her stomach resumed turning circles. As she peeked up at him, she saw his eyes begin to soften, much like they did during their hug mere days ago. A streak of panic ran down her spine.

"I, um- I think I'm good now," she sputtered, releasing him and gently pushing away. "Though I don't feel too well."

LaSalle's eyes went back to normal, but his face remained soft, as he ducked his head with a nod.

"Yeah, I think I'm good too. We should probably head out so you can get back home and get some sleep. Those shots of tequila will creep up on ya."

"No kidding."

As the made their way back to the table, Sonja put on her jacket and grabbed her purse as LaSalle paid the bill. Exiting the club, they easily found their way back to the truck in the nearly empty street. He once again helped her into the vehicle, and they took off in the direction of Sonja's house. The ride home was silent in conversation besides the occasional interruption of LaSalle quietly singing along with the radio.

Pulling up to the house, he parked, and quickly jumped out to open her door. After climbing down, she smiled, as they both walked onto the porch.

"Wow, LaSalle. I- um, I don't know what to say! Tonight was really unexpected but it was also really fun. Like you promised. So, thank you. For everything."

"Aw, there's that 'thank you' I've been searchin' for," he teased, giving her a gentle shove. "It truly was my pleasure, Sonja." He bowed with a grin.

Before another word could be spoken, Sonja began to feel her stomach bubble, her sickness unwilling to dissipate. Hurriedly unlocking her door, she flung it open and ran through her kitchen until she found the sanctuary of her bathroom, slamming the door shut as she threw herself at the toilet within close reach.

"Percy! Are you okay?" she heard LaSalle yelling from outside.

She moaned, taking a seat on the floor of the bathroom after wiping her mouth. She overheard her front door creak shut, and a pair of heavy footsteps stomp toward her.

"Sonja," he knocked. "Are you sick?"

"No, I just have a weird way of saying goodbye," she hollered, the back of her head hitting the wall.

He laughed, leaning against the door.

"Can I get ya anything? Water? Medicine?"

"I'm fine, LaSalle, just go home. I haven't drank this much in a while and I'm paying for it."

"I told ya that tequila has a way of creepin' in, but you wouldn't listen."

"Yeah, I know. Damn. Now go home! I'll call you tomorrow so you know I'm alive."

She heard his footsteps leaving the entrance of the bathroom as they made their way to the living room, when they stopped, and her couch made a 'woosh' noise.

"I'm not leavin' till' I know you're alright, so take all the time you need in there," he told her. "You've got some kinda attitude, ya know it?"

Sonja cursed under her breath at his pigheadedness and continued to be sick for another twenty minutes.

Finally emerging from the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed, she went over to her fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. Tossing it, LaSalle caught the bottle in one hand as she plopped down next to him with a glare. He quickly noticed.

"What's that look for? I'm bein' a good partner and makin' sure you're okay."

"Mhm, more like a good 'work husband' outside of work. I'm okay now, I promise. Go home and get some rest."

"Why are you always so quick to get rid of me, Percy?" he teased, but somehow Sonja knew part of him was being serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Last week, I'm huggin' you and bein' nice, and the next second you make a bolt for the door. And tonight, when we were dancin', you looked like you saw a darn ghost. What's up with that?"

Sonja pressed the bottle to her lips, eyes darting away. After gulping down some water, she turned toward him.

"I don't know, LaSalle. I honestly don't. I guess I'm not used to receiving that kind of- attention. It scares me a little bit."

"If I make you uncomfortable just let me know, okay? I didn't know you felt that way about me. Gosh, I'm sorry, Percy."

Sonja's heart broke at the look in his eyes.

"Wait, I didn't mean you scare me, LaSalle. That's not what I meant at all. If I felt that way I would never have agreed to hang out with you tonight."

He nodded, head low.

"We're partners, Christopher. I trust you. Don't forget that."

He turned to face her with an intent look.

"Then don't forget I care about you, Sonja. I meant what I said that night."

She took in a nervous breath.

"I know you do, believe me. Message received loud and clear," she assured him. "I care about you too."

A sense of lightness overtook the room as LaSalle's face brightened at her words.

"Certain situations just scare me right now, but I'm doing my best to overcome that. It's a process, I need time."

"I understand. No worries," he smiled.

LaSalle stood up from the couch and stretched, a yawn escaping his lips.

"Do you mind if I take the water with me? I might need it for the trip back home."

Sonja stood as well. "No, you can have it. Do you want a snack before you leave or anything?"

He peeked at the refrigerator behind her, eyebrow raised.

"A vegan snack? No thank you, ma'am. I'll have to pass."

She snorted. "What is wrong with you guys? Don't diss it until you try it. It's delicious."

"Yeah, maybe to you! I'll stick to my bacon and eggs," he laughed.

Sonja walked him to the front door, swinging it open for him. He stepped through, one hand in his pocket as he had at the beginning of the night.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he nodded.

"Why didn't you just ask me to the club in the first place instead of creating a whole bunch of lies to keep me on the phone?"

"What lies? Cleanin' up and paintin' my house?"

"Yeah, you were stalling."

"Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't," he smirked. "But those ain't lies. Especially the paintin' my house one. I spent most of the day outside. That's why I'm all golden and bronzey," he explained, petting his chest.

Sonja rolled her eyes skyward, shoving him out the door.

"Okay, get out."

"I'm really glad you had a nice night, Percy. We'll have to try not havin' a date again sometime, don't ya think?" he called, moseying over to his vehicle.

"Whoa there, Cowboy. Don't push it. I'll be sure to let you know," she sternly informed him, biting her lip to suppress a smile. "See you later."

LaSalle opened the door to his truck and held up a hand to wave.

"I'll see you soon."