"Who ate my sandwich?"

Brenda turned around and eyed him suspiciously; him with his crisp suit, toothpick in mouth, coffee at his side and the L.A. Times in his hand. "Flynn?" She called to him.

"What?"

"Have you seen my sandwich? It was wrapped in clear plastic wrap," Brenda said as she rummaged through the fridge in the Major Crimes staff lounge.

"Yeah, some guy came in here, took it and made a run for it. I tried to stop him but he was a fast little guy," he replied. "It was a short guy, about 5'2", he was wearing a striped jumpsuit, with a black cape; couldn't really make out his face, I think he was wearing a mask," he continued, still engrossed in the newspaper's article.

She stared at him in pure disbelief.

SMACK

"Ow," Flynn yelped, "What the hell was that for?"

"It wasn't a burger, it was a sandwich. And I can't believe you ate my sandwich," she complained.

"Do you really think that I would consume an unidentified sandwich from the fridge?"

"First of all, the sandwich was clearly labelled, Brenda's Lunch. See?" She held up a piece of paper, and surely enough, it read Brenda's Lunch. "B-R-E-N-D-A, that's me. And yes, you're exactly the type of person who would steal other people's lunches."

Flynn finally looked up from the newspaper, "I'm I-N-S-U-L-T-E-D."

Brenda was afraid to ask, "Seriously?"

He looked at her and didn't utter a word before returning his focus on the newspaper.

She felt guilty; 'great job Brenda,' she thought. With that, her frustrated expression softened, although with a slight pout still present. Embarrassed at her childish behaviour, she cradled a cup of coffee in her hands and slowly crept, with eyes lowered to the ground, towards Flynn and the unoccupied seat beside him.

They sat in silence for a while; he persisted in reading the newspaper with the simple understanding that this was Brenda's way of expressing regret. He handed her the Life & Style section of the newspaper without uttering a word and knowing that she enjoyed reading that portion.

"Thanks," she said quietly accepted, slowly sipping bitter coffee while she pretended to read the front page, but secretly brewed over the stolen sandwich.

"That was my lunch and it's just sad, not to mention rude to steal other people's lunches," she said in a sudden outburst whilst smashing the newspaper against the couch.

Andy knew that it was coming, so he just resumed turning to another page, "you can try lifting some prints off that label of yours," he kidded.

She didn't hesitate to elbow him.

"Ow, I think you're having far too much fun smacking me around."

"Nah, I know that you enjoy it much more than I do," she smiled.

Flynn smiled mischievously as he paused and observed her, her enigmatic smile captivating him. He watched her make her way towards the coffee machine before uttering another word, "So, what was in the sandwich anyway? Can you give me a description? Any identifying marks?"

Coffee cup in hand, Brenda turned around and leaned against the counter, smile still evident but somewhat annoyed.

"Humour me," he smiled as he leaned back against the firm couch.

"Don't test me, Lieutenant," Brenda warned.

"Tuna melt? Ham? Turkey? Chicken? White or whole wheat bread? With or without the crust? Did it, by any chance come with a pickle?" Flynn pushed on.

Brenda rolled her eyes and deposited her now empty coffee mug into the dishwasher, "You just don't give up, do you?"

"It's a flaw. I'm like a bulldog, once I bite, I can't quite let go," he answered with a coy smile.

'Oh how I wish one would just run in here and bite you in the ass,' Brenda wickedly hoped.

"Look, I had a horrible morning, I'm tired, I'm hungry and was just looking forward to having a nice tomato, lettuce and mayo sandwich for lunch," she sighed.

"Tomato and lettuce? I would say that you seem more like an extra-lean-turkey-meat-with-salad-on-the-side type of girl to me."

"Are you insinuating that I'm...?"

"No," Flynn answered quickly, "no, not at all." He knew where this conversation was going to go, and it was not a road that any sane man would ever want to travel.

"You know what, so much for eating healthy, I'm gonna go out to grab something," Brenda admitted in defeat as she made her way out of the lounge.

"Want some company?" Flynn enquired.

"So long as you refrain from making any superficial food descriptions!"

"Don't lie, you enjoy both my company and my superficial food descriptions!" Flynn called back.

"I'll meet you outside," Brenda called over her shoulder.

Andy got up off his seat and walked towards the garbage can, disposing of a crumpled ball of clear plastic wrap. 'That sandwich was terrific; but you should have skipped the pickle.' , he thought as he exited the room.