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Paperwork would make delightful bonfire tinder. Wrapping up cases took longer than solving them, Natalie decided as a perfect, full moon night greeted her from outside the lab window. The world was safely tucked away beneath celestial wonders while the team was sequestered inside, losing the benefit of the welcoming weather in favor of recycled air and elevator music. They'd been at this random, shapeshifting disease for several days now and the local administrators had severed Connor's last tolerant nerve. And the man was crafted with precious few to begin with.

Feeling like an unclaimed car at an impound lot, it was her 2 day old hunger that persuaded her limbs to give up the computer-screen vigil. Pending results, ever the watched pot, would not supply data any faster under a bored, starving gaze. Scooping up a few files requiring her supervisor's signature, she headed toward the makeshift command center, knowing her targeted meal partner would ultimately end up there. Indeed, he arrived 7 minutes later, promptly dropping into a chair and laying a hand over his eyes, unaware of hidden company. By now he was surely pondering why he came back. She could only hope he had missed the NIH-sanctioned license to yell, because he'd resorted to harsher volumes more than once today. More than incurable ailments, Connor hated bureaucrats attempting to assert weakly defended jurisdiction over him. She'd long gotten a guilty kick out of watching nameless suits stand down in the face of Stephen's cold stare and verbal fury. Watching from a safe and neutral distance, naturally.

Prior to this case, Connor had taken a post-Colima week off. The absence spanned an eternity and left her feeling slightly abandoned. But his return had been seamless, like the teacher on sick leave who resumed class precisely where it left off. It was welcome and yet, not. Because he seemed no closer to peace than before he left, still so far beyond burn-out for a mere seven days to combat. While nothing had changed outwardly for either of them, Natalie had invested quality time in reordering several facets of her universe. Starting with a boldness that was presently seeking to fail her.

Overcoming the urge to dart under a table until he left the room, she cleared her throat, startling him. Stephen's gaze, snapping up to locate her, was miraculously devoid of annoyance for the first time today. While his features carried that perpetual 'go away,' sign, some tiny glint in the recesses of his eyes evidenced gladness at finding her. It bolstered her courage to speak aloud what had been previously rehearsed in her head.

"You look like hell." Natalie stated, stealing his brand of blunt honesty.

Refusing the bait, Stephen held out his hand. "Those for me?"

As was her tendency lately, a lingering gaze stole to his ringless third finger. Lord preserve her from over-contemplation of impossibilities. Her boss's marital status was as a gift delivered to her, yet addressed to someone else. Occasionally, she'd attempted to peel back a corner of the packing tape, only to find the box clinging to its seal. The deeper content of the gift, his heart, had long been clearly marked: to be opened by addressee only. Divining a plan to rectify the incorrect label had taken time, but little persistent steps were her specialty. Eventually, he would be hers to open. Even if she had to forge a signature. Tonight was about peeling that corner before he had a chance to secure it back in place.

Natalie perched on the edge of the desk, the papers held slightly aloft, just out of his reach. Stephen could easily commandeer them, but that would require moving closer. He seemed to know that, thus remaining in his chair with obvious effort. The patented 'I'm-waiting' glare still inspired shivers, only these days the chills were of a different source.

Summoning a salesman's negotiation smile, Nat said, "These come with a price. Have dinner with me."

Food was meant to sustain, not proposition. Maybe he'd be too tired to notice the suggestive tone employed quite innocently. Mostly. Incredulous was a frequent expression when personal requests were made. But somewhere in the relaxing of his jaw was a hint of near-acceptance. He wanted to agree, but habit bludgeoned hunger to bits most days.

He cast a brief, pained glance to the pile of charts still seeking his attention. "Now?"

Now was simply a no using the 'w' as a guise. Still, Natalie was resolved to meet him refusal for refusal, having spent the bulk of Stephen's vacation storing up reserves of stubbornness to be used against him.

Therefore she pressed, "And not in the hospital."

Those eyes, with their blue borrowed from a cloudless sky, swept over her. Just a touch unveiled. Just a bit unguarded. And very nearly unprofessional. As was his shrugged response;

"Okay."

(…………)

One of the perks of their job's traveling requirement was the unexpected locations they were frequently placed into. The hectic, imposing metropolises made her feel connected to the larger world; D.C., New York and Baltimore were so vastly populated that one had little excuse to experience loneliness. But the rural farmlands gave her a sense of being blissfully secluded, not lonely but peacefully aware of self. Unfortunately, touring local sites was hardly on the NIH to-do list. Like any efficient cavalry, their orders were to arrive at the crisis point, save those on the battlefield and withdraw back to home base. No time was left for something as mundane as sightseeing. And never was a souvenir packed alongside their exhaustion on the return trip. Nary a shot glass to offer as evidence that some of her favorite unmapped towns existed.

This case's small town was Rockwell-quaint, a divided square with its main street creatively labeled Main Street. Traditional antique shops, mom and pop joints and hardware stores fought politely with psychics and tattoo parlors for patrons. A lack of neon signs, unusual to city-bred eyes, allowed the night stars their rightful wattage. An all-night diner housed in a postcard-worthy, converted boxcar was chosen both for its walking distance from the hospital and the near absurdity of its charm.

Greeted by an older woman, Rose according to her smock, they requested the non-smoking section. Rose gave them a suggestive once-over, seemingly pegging them for a pair of cheaters rendezvousing in the wee hours. After being shown to a booth in the back, the two doctors proceeded to dissect the menu. The lateness of the hour brought their collective eyes to the breakfast list. Dawn would be nearing soon and the case would make a daylight meal was unlikely. Watching her boss, Natalie hid a smile behind the worn laminated folds of her menu. Connor made such pretense of studying the options before him, but his order would not vary one item beyond the norm; eggs and coffee. Specifically, an omelet with everything and coffee with nothing. It pleased her to know some part of him that well.

Rose, being busy with the front end and clearly too arthritic to maneuver to their distant spot, sent a college-aged girl to service them. Introducing herself as Amethyst, to their barely disguised amusement, the pretty blond read off the overnight specials. She took their orders with a pop of her gum and both eyes firmly entranced on Stephen. Having forgotten to request a drink, Natalie tried to win the waitress's attention as she scribbled down every word Connor said. Natalie failed, mostly because she no longer existed in the midst of the fawning. Nat huffed when the girl shimmied away, making sure Stephen couldn't miss her very physical invitations. And of course, his smirk wasn't missed either. Wadding up a newly torn straw wrapper for the orange juice she wouldn't get, Natalie retrieved his attention with a flick of her wrist. Stephen glanced down to the ball of paper that had bounced off his shoulder before landing on the tabletop.

"If it's a food fight you want…"

"Consider me surrendered, Dr. Connor." Her hands went up in submission. The shirt on her back was the last clean one she'd brought. "Just trying to save poor Amethyst's virtue from the likes of you."

"Meaning?" Leaning on his elbows, he pinned her with a curious gaze and she swallowed hard.

"Meaning," Natalie gave an exaggerated shrug to stall, his gaze equaling a magnifying glass to an ant. Burning from embarrassment from a failed try at flippancy, she struggled to fix the hitch. "Meaning she has no chance so why get her small town hopes up of landing a big city doctor."

He leaned back when his coffee arrived and again, Natalie was deprived the opportunity to point out one drink for two people was bad math. But the interruption and second swaggering swing of waitress hips did not distract him from the subject at hand.

"So you think I'm the 'love them and leave them' type?"

Now noticing the burgundy color to the booth upholstery, Natalie was confident her skin matched its shade. "N-no. I think you're the 'barely have time to shake hands' type." There, that didn't sound so bad.

Seemingly satisfied with the hurried explanation, Stephen looked up at the girl's approach. Set before them was an overflow portion of food and it made her thirsty just to consider the calories involved. Not that she could slake the thirst, being short one drink. And she knew better than to usurp his coffee. Just as Amethyst turned away, Stephen called after her,

"Oh and could we get a large orange juice?" The ever so polite smile worked its magic and the girl rushed off to supply what he requested. Putty in his hands, the gem girl was. As was she because not only had he noticed the oversight, but remedied it.

"You really are a compulsive fixer," she commented once the first mouthful of juice had cleared the throat. She raised the glass in a mock salute to her thirst's savior.

"Just saving your virtue from the likes of Amethyst." His retort was followed by the girl's return, coffee pitcher in hand, to top off the two sips currently missing from his cup. His hand moved to cover the heavy porcelain mug as he assured her he would be fine for some time. Natalie knew the lie of it, all too aware how much coffee the man could put away in record time.

Once left to their own devices for a while, Natalie ventured, "It's the eyes, you know."

Looking momentarily perplexed by the comment, Stephen's cell phone cut off any reply. Flipping open the screen, he rolled said eyes.

"Frank wants to know where we are and what we're bringing back for him."

"Amethyst, if he wants. It'll give you a break from her dedicated attentiveness."

Snapping the phone cover closed, Stephen balanced a portion of egg on his fork and shook his head. "The eyes aren't my fault. My mother was part husky."

Her laugh drew the attention of anyone still awake at the counter, along with the jealous glare of Amethyst. Rose was heard to mumble something about the unfaithfulness of the younger generation. They'd have to return to the hospital soon. But for the duration of one meal, no shop talk occurred. And his signature on the credit card receipt reminded her of the package that Connor was. And she was all the more determined to open him, one relaxed boxcar meal at a time.

(…………)

For those interested, part two will follow.