"Well, I didn't know that talking about work, and my partner – "

"Your brave and handsome partner," he interjects.

It's a silly throwaway line, only meant to rile her up a little more. If there's anyone who's her own worst enemy in the dating world, it's Eddie. He's pretty sure he knows why, too, but he's not going to say it. He braces himself for a return volley. Instead she huffs a dramatic sigh and doesn't even try to cover up a grin, holding his eyes in a way that turns his guts to sparkly underwater phosphorescence.

" – was gonna be such a turn-off…" she trails off, like it's all somehow his fault.

He's pretty sure that's an actual blush creeping up from under the pretty scarf she's wearing tonight. His denim-and-leather tough gal likes a bit of soft-and-frilly now and then, a contradiction he always enjoys. "It's ridiculous," she murmurs, sending him such a warm look that his stomach gets sparkly all over again.

In all their playing along together, they haven't come this close to the line in a long time. He sort of wants to play with her scarf and tug her closer with it. Just a little. Just enough to catch a whiff of her shampoo and the flutter of her breath past his cheek, maybe. Like before.

Whoa, Reagan. Down.

"It's ridiculous," he agrees softly.

He breaks his gaze first, ducking his chin down. He can't help a grin from taking over his face. He has a clear flashback to one of the first nights they sat together over beers, when she'd been stood up for a date. He'd found her at the bar, dressed to kill and all alone. He'd told her she looked nice, and meant it. She'd tossed the compliment back in his face, but with a little grin and a flicker in her eyes that said, hey, thanks, I needed that, and he was in deep, deep waters.

He feels those waters gathering around them both again now. It's entirely possible he's been barely keeping his head over the surface all along.

Eddie breaks open her fortune cookie then, and reads aloud: "The greatest risk is not taking one."

"Between the sheets."

She stares at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"You're supposed to add 'between the sheets' to the end of the fortune, in a fortune cookie. You know, for fun," he insists, "So yours would be 'Your greatest risk is not taking one between the sheets' ."

"Okay," she allows, dubiously. "So what's yours?"

There's a shadowy look in her eye he's seen once or twice. And unless he's mistaken, a slight catch in her voice.

Interesting.

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished, he reads from the slip in his fingers. Hm. Not bad, actually, but…

"Your partner," he pretends to recite with a smirk, "will make you very happy…between the sheets."

He's just asking for a smack on the hand, at least. This is way over whatever lines they'd drawn in the sand. And it feels so damn good. They've been so well-behaved lately, models of unit discipline on the job. The thing with tag-teaming Captain Hollis has turned out to be a bizarre little turn-on, one of their unspoken mutual displays of solidarity, and it's just now percolating to the surface. They've always been at their best together when facing down adversity.

"It does not say that!" she protests. "You're lying! Give it to me."

"It does! 'Your partner will make you very happy…' "

"Show me!"

"You can't read my fortune."

"It's not a wish."

"Yeah, it's like a wish. If I eat it, it makes it real."

"That's not…how that works."

He has no idea how this thing turned into a wish, or some mad projection of wish-fulfilment, but there's no going back now. He's not sure he even wants to. He's way too curious to see how far they'll go with this. It's no secret that there's always been this deep, fast-running underground wellspring of feeling between then, though they've done their best to keep away from the quicksand. Everything will change once they set it free, whether deliberately or by caving in some crazy night.

Even Hollis thinks we're together, and he's never said anything till today, his mind whispers at him. Or is he just another white-shirt who thinks my dad will protect us somehow? Does anyone honestly think that little of both of us, and my dad?

The thought sobers him, and he takes a breath and gives Eddie an appreciative glance. She smiles back and primly consults her menu as if they weren't just talking about wishing to throw each other into bed.

Mine? Hers? His brain adds helpfully. Mine's closer.

Just, you know in case the wildly improbable should occur. He's not an Eagle Scout for nothin'.

They pick two different combo plates so they can share things, and extra egg rolls for Eddie, who can't resist anything crunchy and savoury. They arrive first, and in the mood they're in, he can't resist leaning back and watching her attack them with her usual gusto.

"What?" she asks him, mid-bite.

"Just like watching how you appreciate things, that's all."

"Thought I ate too much all the time."

"Well," he points out, "If you're gonna do two kickboxing classes a day all week, you're gonna need it."

"True." She takes another bite of her eggroll, and closes her eyes. "Mm. I swear, they put something illegal in these. So good."

"Hot, hot oil in the fryer. And lots of ginger."

"Shitake," she says, which shouldn't sound at all sexy, but does.

She starts to suck her fingertips clean, and that's difficult enough to watch, but then her little tongue swipes the side of her finger and catches a drip of plum sauce down along her inner wristbone, and he has to check that his mouth is still closed.

She catches him staring, and doesn't ask, or even comment. She holds his eyes and takes a slow suck of the inside of her wrist, and his mouth just knows that it's incredibly soft and she can feel her own pulse there, picking up speed, and ohh, shit…

This isn't even teasing anymore. That's a look she's never given him, not even when they kissed before. He's analyzed and replayed the hell out of every fractional second of those kisses, and he'd never forget a look like that. If they weren't in a public place –

"Combo, and another combo," their server says cheerfully, sliding two steaming, fragrant plates in front of them.

"Thank you," Eddie smiles serenely, like she wasn't just demanding he pin her up against the nearest wall.

He clears his throat and focuses on his chopsticks, which refuse to behave, as proficient as he usually is with them. "Ridiculous," he mutters.

Across the table, Eddie lets out a quiet giggle.

"So," she begins, after a few bites, "Hollis. Did he mean that? About your girlfriend defending you? Or was he just trying to get a rise out of you?"

"Honestly, I couldn't say. Either he actually thinks there's something going on with us and he's pissed because he thinks we're taking advantage of my Dad, or he just hates dealing with anyone with senior brass in the family. For whatever reasons of his own."

"You'd think if he really believed it, he'd have said something to Renzulli."

"You'd think. Or maybe he did and Renzulli pushed back. I mean, it's not Hollis' job to deal with partner issues. That's up to Renzulli. If he's got no problem with us, there's not much Hollis can do unless he's got some sort of proof, and wants to make an official disciplinary action."

"Which he did, but not about that."

"No. And did you see how mad he was when he left?"

"I did," she agrees, "Like he was pissed at himself for losing control in front of us."

"I thought so, too."

"So is he worried about your Dad coming down on him?"

"Good question. I mean, sure, we definitely should not have said what we did, but he wasn't being reasonable. If he'd listened to me in the first place…"

"Yeah. Why didn't he? Any senior cop should know there's nothing more useful than a beat cop's prior experience with a subject. That's why we're out there."

He puts down his chopsticks and regards her. "Janko, you're brilliant."

"I am. Thank you. Why?"

"Because that's it. Hollis' beef is with my dad. I bet he'd have listened to any other beat cop who tried to explain what was up with Billy, but me? No. He wanted to keep me in my place. I've got no history with him that'd explain anything else. Neither have you."

"Huh." She thinks about this. "And since we both lost our tempers, he couldn't resist jamming us both up for real, but now that's going to get back to Gormley and your dad."

"And it's gonna come out that he really should have taken our history with Billy on board."

She blows out a breath. "Hoo, boy. This isn't over."

"Which gets back to the question, if he's asked what his beef with us is, will he say he actually thinks you're my girlfriend or not?"

"Gotta wonder how many others still think so. I mean, just when I think we've set everyone straight, I hear more gossip."

"It's ridiculous."

She grins at him, eyes dancing. "Totally ridiculous."

"I mean, we barely know each other."

He has the numinous experience of watching Eddie lose it completely, in gales of laughter so hard she can't stop, until she's wiping tears away. Then he gets the giggles, badly. The rest of the patrons stare at them and then ignore them politely, which keeps setting them both off again.

When they eventually recompose themselves, she reaches over, and rests her hand on his.

"For the record," she says, "There is nobody in the entire world who knows me like you do. And I'm pretty happy about that."

He turns his hand over and links his fingers through hers. "Yeah," he tells her. "Me too."

He feels her hand sneak back into his, as they leave the restaurant. It feels natural. It also feels weirdly, excitingly defiant, like it's the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder. They may be in the middle of Chinatown and far from the precinct, but still, there's any number of people who might spot them and drop a comment to the wrong person.

They're not walking with any destination in mind, but they're not about to let go. They don't have to. It's Saturday night and neither one is on duty tomorrow. They could head for any number of their usual watering holes and score a few rounds of free beers for taking down Hollis in public and getting hung up for it. But it's not a night for familiar faces. The sensation of hiding out in the world just adds to the slightly clandestine feel of the evening.

They wander through the bright Chinatown Night Market, enjoying the sights and sounds and energy of the crowd, and wait out a rain shower under the red and gold awning of a grocery shop. Eddie gets herself an almond cookie for dessert. Under a streamer of miniature lights, she smiles up at him. There's a reflection in her eyes of the look he saw earlier: a challenge to come out and play, and a deepening arousal, and speculation hovering on the edge of a serious offer.

Whatever happens tonight, I don't want to go back to playing it safe, he thinks, and swallows.

"Hey, you, come back," she says softly. "What're you thinking?"

"'Bout you, mostly."

"Only mostly?"

She leans into him forehead-first, like a cat, and his arms come around her by reflex. That's so much better. He knows her so intimately, but he's held her so rarely that each time is a crystalline memory he keeps locked away. It's intoxicating. He's having a hard time thinking straight about anything but the feel of her.

Her hands find their way under his unzipped jacket, and every other thought in his mind comes to a staggering halt.

God, Eddie.

He realizes she's feeling the same need to touch him. He needs to kiss her, and he's going to in another second, unless he...

"D'you want me to walk you to your train?" he mumbles, barely hearing himself. She shakes her head slowly. Her eyes are huge and luminous, darkening as he watches, and he can see the rapid puffs of her breath hit the cold air. He watches his hands drift up to her scarf, and just like he imagined, he tugs at it gently, bringing her closer. Her eyes drift closed, and the warmth and scent of her sends a sharp, intense wave through him. He's half a heartbeat from kissing her softly, just a taste, he tells himself, when her impatient little sigh against his mouth undoes him. They come together in a searing brief kiss, a rush of fierce hunger. She lingers at his underlip on the release, needing more.

"Come home with me," he whispers roughly. His hands have somehow found her waist, and he feels her body react along the whole front of him. Her breath hitches and she seeks out his mouth again, in another kiss that leaves nothing to be misinterpreted.

She pulls back after a moment, stunned as he is. Touches his lips with her fingers and stares at his mouth, then up to his eyes. We just did that. That just happened. This is still happening.

" 's get out of here," she murmurs.

They end up taking a cab, because there's no way they're dealing an open public space in this state. Eddie's stuck to his side like she's just snuggling in. But her mouth against his throat is stealing hidden tastes of the salt of his skin and making him groan quietly, his hand clutching her hip in futile warning. But that only makes her breath come harder and she shifts against him, just enough that he can feel her move under his hand, but the driver can't possibly see, and it drives him mad.

"Eddie…" he pleads.

She sighs and tries to behave.

It's not long before they're pulling up outside his building, and somehow Jamie manages to settle the fare with perfect deportment before taking her hand like he's just helping her out of the cab. He barely registers the cold outside, or the cloying heat of the lobby, in compensation. All he knows are Eddie's fingers linked tight with his, her labored breaths echoing his as they scale four flights of stairs. They're at his door. They're stumbling in. And it's –

Oh, God.

It's the look in Eddie's eyes as she pulls him down to her. It's his hand landing on the wall at the same moment as her back, because they're already shaky with need. They're practically consuming each other, teeth and tongues, grabbing hands and sharp curses of pleasure. It's the clash of mouths and harsh gasps, cool fingers sliding under layers to find hot skin. It's been fucking years. In short minutes, she's got him down to his jeans, the rest on the floor, and her hands on his bare skin are setting off charges of electricity all through him. He skims her top over her head, and his whole body surges at the feel of her, smooth skin over toned muscles and her silky hair falling against his chest. His mouth finds the sweet spot on the tendon of her shoulder and he bites down, as one hand palms a taut little nipple under soft cotton.

"Fuck, Reagan. Take me to bed," she begs in his ear, her hand moving down to find him, as hard as he can ever remember. He groans in response and wonders if they'll even get that far. He always sort of knew there would be this raw honesty, this matched hunger. But living through it is something else.

He takes her hands and pulls her towards his room, navigating by feel and memory, because he can't stop kissing her, not now. He finds the door and then it's only four steps to the bed, and he bends and hooks an arm around her back and another under her knees and scoops her up, laying her down on the covers before she even lets out a noise. He hears her breathing, loud in the quiet as his mouth moves down over her breast, her belly, and feels her muscles clenching under his touch. He feels her hands grabbing at his shoulder, his knee on the edge of the bed, anything she can reach as he undresses her quickly, boots and jeans and underthings.

And then Eddie is lying on his bed looking up at him, nude and perfect, damn near writhing with want, her eyes glittering in the dark.

She reaches for him, hooking a finger in the waist of his jeans, and God, he wants nothing but to take her right there, but he's felt the chill on her skin. He pulls back the quilt so she can climb in. While she's at it, he skims out of his jeans and boxers, and quickly joins her. She slides a strong leg over his and pins him down, stretching out over him like a warm blanket, her fingers linking with his up near his head. Their mouths find each other and fuse together. Exploring can wait. This kind of need can't.

And it's hushed and breathless after that, crashing together and driving each other into a sweet intense madness, over and over.

Jamie still doesn't know what awaits them at the One PP by on Monday morning, as he and Eddie meet up for coffee and a confidence boost before their meeting. Sunday dinner was entirely taken up with the question of Nicky joining the family biz again, especially as Jack is once again muttering about maybe joining up after college. Between Erin and Danny's very different reactions, the family had enough to deal with than Jamie earning himself another self-righteous suspension.

But he's had a couple of interesting texts. One from Danny: Got a tip the brass is looking into actions of your Capt. Don't take off anywhere this week. You might get called back.

And then from Renzulli: Harvard, I gotta beer with your name on it. Let me help you two if I can.

"No idea, huh?" Eddie asks him, as they sit side by side in the café across from the plaza. They're dressed soberly, as befits a disciplinary meeting, and trying not to make too much eye contact in case they give themselves away. On the slim chance that Hollis has made a complaint about their relationship, they have the tiniest margin to lie through their teeth and try to make him prove anything. It'll complicate the hell out of things when they do come clean, as they will have to, but meanwhile they need to know what they're dealing with at work, and a little time to sort themselves out.

"No idea."

"Well. The worst they can do is split us up. And if they do that, we might as well take it and 'fess up, and get used to being open about us," Jamie says, watching her body language out the corner of his eye. She sips her coffee and her spine seems to relax a fraction, which he takes as a good sign. It's been, to put it mildly, an incredible weekend, though they haven't exactly done much talking. But he's not pulling back from wherever they are now, and neither is she.

"We work together so well, though," she says, already sounding a little regretful.

"I know we do. C'mon. Let's go find out what's in store."

They're stopped by the receptionist en route to the elevator to the Commissioner's Office, and requested politely to sit and wait in the lobby instead. It's not his father but Sid Gormley who comes to collect them.

"We need people these kids can relate to and ask the questions they won't ask us," he explains, after outlining his plan for them to speak to the Explorers group. "And frankly, you two being in a bit of hot water right now is only gonna give you some street cred. They need to know that policing is all about making choices that affect people, all day, every day, not just following rules and being a hardass."

"Well, we've certainly got some good stories about that part of the job," Eddie replies.

"I bet you do." Sid gives them a grin. "I'd'a paid good money to see you two up in Hollis' face. What a jackass."

Given that they've had no time to prepare any sort of presentation, they have to wing it, but they find their usual timing with ease. It's like telling shift stories at the bar, only they have to sanitize it a little on the fly for the kids, and explain what's so important. And the kids love it.

Jamie's used to speaking with older teens, having family the same age as the Explorers program. Eddie's less accustomed to it, but she's a natural at reaching out to people and finding the funny in any situation. Most of the kids fall for her instantly anyway, a cute little tough-talking cop who treats them like they're already her colleagues. The half-hour runs out on them quickly, and it's clear the kids have a lot of questions. Gormley promises to bring them back later, which turns into an offer to shadow the kids' activities and help update the Explorer's curriculum, seconded to the Commissioner's staff on paid duty for the week.

They share a triumphant look as Gormley and Dumbrowski herd the kids into a thrilling CompStat session. He gives her shoulder a friendly whack, like they always do.

"I guess we do work pretty well together, huh," he says, pleased.

"Between the sheets." Eddie hisses after him.

"…ridiculous." he replies.