Mattie found she had a break at eleven thirty, and made straight for the police station. She had spent much of the night trying to think of what she would say to Charlie in the morning, of what he might say, how they could speak privately. She had spent the morning following his conspicuous absence at the table in much the same way, though with a greater intensity of concern.

She strode up to the desk, manned by Constable Simmons. He smiled when she entered, which she tried to return as genuinely as possible. She liked Ned; he was helpful and pleasant, was a staunch supporter of Lawson when Munro had been a threat, even if he had been less active in that respect, and had a similar loyalty to Sergeant Davis. Probably because Sergeant Hobart was awful and Charlie looked positively angelic by comparison, especially since the younger man defended the prospective targets of Hobart's violence in the interview rooms and cells as well as his fellow officers from his malice. Charlie was also one of the youngest sergeants in the state, so he was much closer to Ned in age than many of the other men in the station.

"I'd like to speak with Sergeant Davis, if he's here," she told him.

He nodded towards the office where Charlie had his desk. "I think he's talking to someone about a theft, but you can go wait in there. It'll be fine, everyone knows you," he said easily.

She thanked him and walked quietly into the room. Matthew sat at his desk, perusing some files or reports fanned out on the desk before him. He looked up, nodded at her, and returned his focus to the task at hand. A few other officers sat at desks, typing, reading, taking notes or on the phone.

Charlie sat at his desk, opposite a pretty, young woman with coppery hair and bright green eyes. He asked her another question and she responded, though Mattie couldn't hear what either of them were saying. He nodded and jotted something down on his notepad. When he next looked up, he saw her standing next to the door and stopped mid-sentence. He recovered, asking a few more answers and taking down more details.

He stood, as did the woman, thanking her a bit more loudly than the quiet tone used for the gentle interview. "Thank you for your time, Miss Moore. We'll let you know if there's anything else," he said, holding his arm out toward the door, indicating the she could leave.

Instead, she leant closer and said something quiet with what could only be described as a flirtatious smile. He blinked, but otherwise gave no acknowledgement. After a moment, she sighed and left.

Once she was gone, he walked over to Mattie. She fixed him with a determined look. "Can we speak somewhere, privately, for a few minutes?" she asked. He nodded, leading her out the rear door of the office and into some kind of waiting room.

He stood ramrod straight, hands clasped loosely before him. His posture said staunch and formal, but he was blushing and looking at the wall behind her.

Mattie stared at him for a few seconds, struggling for words, before laughing. Charlie looked at her sharply, and it petered out breathily.

"Well, we've gotten ourselves into an awkward situation, haven't we? Well, I suppose it was my fault, really. I suppose I should apologise, though I'm not really inclined to," she started. Charlie seemed to thaw a bit, so she kept going. "I guess that wasn't really the best way to go about things, but I suppose… I think we should…"

"Mattie," he cut her floundering off with a charmingly open smile. "What are you doing after work?"

She grinned back. "I don't know. Nothing set in stone," she teased.

"Well, maybe we ought to sort that out. At six o'clock, maybe?"

"It's a date," she agreed with a laugh. "You know, though, Jean's going to be watching us like a hawk from now on, right?"

He shrugged, meandering over to her until her head had to tilt back to meet his soft gaze. "We'll just have to be careful at home then."

"Just at home?" she breathed.

He answered by bring a hand up to her face and leaning down to kiss her gently. Mattie forced herself to stick to his gentle pace, determined not to put him into disarray that his colleagues would notice.

Their arms were tangled around each other, and Mattie felt so safe and loved and relaxed that she nearly screamed when the door banged open and Bill Hobart's voice shattered the glorious peace they'd been enjoying.

"Charlie, the boss wants us over at – What do we have here?" he sounded amused and slightly contemptuous. The trademarked Hobart cocktail, really. Or maybe that was annoyed and slightly contemptuous.

"I'll wait out the front. Whenever you're ready, Davis," he said with a smirk, closing the door behind him as he swaggered back out into the office.

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dramatically.

Mattie edged towards the door with an apologetic smile. "Maybe careful at home and at work," she laughed a little nervously, earning an amused huff from him. "See you after work?"

He straightened, apparently not too put out, dropping a chaste kiss on her cheek before passing her into the office. "After work," he confirmed resolutely.

Despite the extra embarrassment she hadn't bargained for when she entered the police station, Mattie left in a far better mood than that in which she had arrived. She didn't notice the look Matthew threw her way, an impressive combination of disapproval, amusement and smugness.