WARNINGS: Schmoopyness, mentions of pet death in a very distant way, Hank's dating practices.

NOTES: Because the Squirrel needs happy endings. Takes place several weeks after LTLF ends.

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"You taking off?" Nick asked, watching Hank pack up and shut down. "Hot date tonight?" Hank only left this early when he had big plans.

Hank grinned. "Maybe."

Nick leaned back in his chair. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"You don't know?" Hank teased. "Slipping, Burkhardt, slipping."

Nick narrowed his eyes. Challenge accepted.

It was a new girl. He was too excited for it to be anything else. Hmmm…. Clothes were more comfortable than dressy, jeans and hiking boots, but he'd showered and shaved in the locker room when they'd gotten back to the precinct Not a fancy restaurant then, which was odd because Hank had a type too and it usually meant educated, stylish, polished. Not the type to be happy eating at the local greasy spoon.

Then there was the brochure for the Hoyt Arboretum that had been on Hank's desk for three days, shuffled in and out of paperwork piles.

Someone new, someone who didn't fit Hank's usual dating pattern, someone who would enjoy a date that would require comfortable walking shoes in the not quite spring weather….

He looked at Hank's right wrist where the edge of a beaded bracelet was poking out of the sleeve. It had been changed out twice now since he had gotten the original from Marica Phipps.

"No way," Nick crowed. "You and the hippy-witch chick?"

Hank smirked.

"Really?"

Hank dropped his files into the top desk drawer, shutting it crisply and turning the lock with a flourish.

"Huh. How did that happen?"

Hank's hand went to the bracelet. "Went back after the first fifteen days were up. She made me another one and I took her out to lunch as a thank you. We got to talking…."

"She asked you out, didn't she?"

Hank smiled beatifically.

"Likes older men then," Nick said slyly.

Hank's smile only widened. "Oh yeah." Standing up, he grabbed his jacket off his chair. "Don't you have plans tonight as well?"

Dinner and a movie with Juliette at his rental.

"Got a couple hours," Nick said. "You go ahead. I'll finish this up."

Hank didn't argue. "See you Monday, partner."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Nick called after him and got a saucy wave of a hand in return. It was good to see Hank going out, enjoying himself. He turned his attention to his own work, highly motivated to finish as quickly as possible and get home.

Dating Juliette again was odd to say the least. They were both finding it weirdly easy, knowing everything about each other's like and dislikes, but they were avoiding the house, either going out or staying in at his rental. It was still better, safer, meeting somewhere they had no history for now.

He'd dug up their copy of Evolution, Juliette's favorite movie, or at least one of her favorites that he enjoyed as well, and picked up a few extra groceries. He'd planned on changing into something nicer than his work clothes but the doorbell rang just as he was warming the oven for the tortillas. Wiping his hands on a towel, he ran a hurried hand through his hair, suddenly nervous and giddy as a teenager.

Juliette was in jeans and the chunky-knit gray sweater she wore when she needed to feel secure and comfy. She looked tired, eyes reddened, but she still smiled when she saw him.

"Hi, come on in. Dinner's almost ready."

She stepped inside while he closed the door then flung her arms around his neck, holding on fiercely. "Bad day?" he asked. Juliette nodded against his neck and held on for another minute before stepping back. "Would you like a drink?"

"Absolutely."

Nick led her over to the couch. "Sit. I'll get you a glass of wine."

"Tankard sized, please."

In the kitchen, he slid the tortillas in to warm and poured the wine. He'd set the table in the kitchen but was more than willing to change plans and move everything to the living room.

"I was kidding about the tankard," Juliette said when he handed her the juice glass of wine.

"Believe it or not, I did not own wine glasses before I moved in with you."

"Really?" She slipped off her shoes so she could pull her feet up and snuggle into the cushions.

"Surprising, isn't it." His bachelor pad dish set also hadn't included a breakfast tray, but a cookie sheet worked just as well to tote everything to the coffee table. "Voilà. Chicken fajitas. Watch the skillet," he warned, layering a potholder and two dishtowels underneath to protect the wood, "it's very hot."

"Hey," Juliette said, catching his hand as he sat down beside her. "Thank you," she said seriously. "I really needed this."

"You want to talk about it?"

She shook her head around another sip of wine.

"Do I need to hurt someone?"

She smiled faintly and shook her head again. "Had a surgery that didn't go well. The patient was older. We knew chances weren't good, but still…." She shrugged it off, but he knew she wouldn't be able to let it go that easily.

Nick kissed her forehead and hugged her. She held on, releasing a shuddery breath. "I would really like to watch a movie with you and not think about anything for a couple hours." Her stomach growled loudly into the quiet, startling a laugh out of both of them. "And eat because that smells really good."

He brushed the hair back from her face. "That we can definitely do."

By the end of the movie the whole house smelled like chicken fajita and Juliette was making tiny breathy, whistling noises against his shoulder, sound asleep. From the spot of warm, wetness on his shirt he thought she was probably drooling a little.

The movie credits finished and the Menu came back on, looping the same ten seconds of music over and over. He tried shifting Juliette sideways a few inches, attempting to get a little blood flow back into his arm without waking her. Nothing. He tried again, pushing a little harder, but she snuggled closer instead, sliding an arm around his stomach with a discontented murmur.

Surrendering to the inevitable, he fumbled for the remote, hitting the Play button again. Looked like he wasn't going anywhere for awhile.

The End