AN: I have at least 5 more sections already hand written to follow this one and more of the storyline mapped out in my head. Hopefully I will get it all typed in and posted soon. I really enjoy this storyline and it is the closest of all my stories as to how I could see it going in a book. I hope you enjoy it.

I do not claim any rights to the characters or the world of the Hollows, all credit goes to the exquisite Kim Harrison.

The L Train

I made another circuit around the room. No one I know. It was nice to get all dressed up and come to a party without working, well without working security. I was here on some kind of business. This was one of Trent's fundraisers. And seeing as it is to benefit the Rosewood babies, Trent had told me to be here. So here I am dressed in a fancy black gown – plunging low cut in the back and a scoop neck coming off the thin straps to accentuate my almost nonexistent chest – and I have yet to speak with Trent. In fact I hadn't seen him since his toast to kick start the night. All his fuss and for what? He claimed there would be people here I needed to meet, but with his absence he has yet to introduce me to said people. Oh well I will just have to settle for enjoying myself.

Trent pulled out all of the stops for this event and I was quite pleased with how it had turned out. His public entertainment area was full of red and black decorations, the newly chosen colors of the Rosewood Survivors. There was an extravagant band playing a full ensemble of music to keep the dance floor full while a silent auction went on. The dinner service was also part of the fundraiser, so all things considered the event appeared to be bringing a reasonably large amount a profit for Daddy Warbucks.

I situated myself at a standing table near the dance floor to watch dancers float by. A raspy, masculine voice startled me, "You must be Rachel Morgan." I spun to find an older couple to my left. They looked harmless enough.

I smiled. "Yes, that would be me."

The older gentleman, donning a black tux with a bowtie, red vest and pocket square, extended his hand, "I'm Dr. Duran, Steven Duran."

"Nice to meet you Dr. Duran."

"And this is my wife Katharine." Her red dress was age appropriate yet still flattering to her figure. She brought her hand out

"Mrs. Duran." I gave her a genuine smile to match the one that had engulfed her features as I shook her offered hand.

"We have been dying to meet you, the first Rosewood survivor." His smile, like his wife's, was broad and honest. "I have been working on this project just a few short weeks, but I am looking forward to our improving results. Rosewood has always been a passion of mine." He gave his wife a knowing glance and I noticed a moment of grief pass between them.

Trying to ignore their obviously private moment, I continued the conversation, "I'm glad to hear it." I didn't know what else to say and any further thoughts were cut off when I felt a hand rest on my lower back.

Dr. Duran started back in about his enthusiasm for our new found enzyme, but I tuned him out. Turning my attention to my right to find out who would dare come up behind me and touch me, I found the space empty. I turned a step further to see Trent approaching he looked good in his black suit and red tie, a look on his eyes telling me he knew I had felt him. The sudden urge to slap the smug look of his handsome face faltered, but I continued to give him a withering stare and narrowed my eyes at him as he stopped next to me and I noticed the faint red pin striping in the black suit, nice touch. "I see you have met the newest addition to the team," he said softly into my hair before turning his attention to Dr. Duran. Trent went into his businessman façade, "We are pleased you were able to come out and show your support." To anyone else his smile might seem pleasant and possibly honest, but I knew differently, this was his business smile.

As a waiter passed, I took a glass of sparkling white wine - low sulfates - and sipped it. The men finished exchanging pleasantries and the older couple departed. Another waiter passed and Trent grabbed one of his offered drinks. "As I mentioned I have a few people I would like you to meet." He took a sip of his wine.

"Well it's not like I got all dressed up to see you," I replied dryly. He smirked as he continued to sip on his wine.

A young man approached with several cameras draped around his neck, "Mr. Kalamack? Ms. Morgan? May I get a shot of you for the gazette?" Before I could respond to the overly flamboyant photographer, Trent placed his hand on my lower back and said "of course" with an almost sly smile. He inched closer to me and the photographer snapped away.

With pictures out of the way, I stepped up to the nearby table once more and set my glass down. Trent, his hand never leaving my back, followed suit, setting his glass next to mine. As Trent stepped away from the table, he put slight pressure to my back in order to silently tell me to follow him. At a steady pace, he headed to the dance floor. Once we reached the edge, he swung me into his arms and out onto the floor in a gracefully fluid motion, never missing a step or colliding with a pair of dancers already dancing.

Trent's hand was spread and firmly pressed against me – his thumb and first two fingers on the skin of my lower back and his last two fingers pressing the soft fabric against me. We were much more relaxed with each other now then the last time we danced – at his wedding rehearsal, a wedding which I stopped by arresting him mid-ceremony. He later thanked me for preventing the political wedding and marriage. With our new found comfort came a more relaxed position seen in his hand on my lower back instead of my waist and my arm curled up and rested on his upper arm, my hand lazily draped on his shoulder instead of just a hand on his shoulder. As he gracefully spun us around the dance floor, our new closeness started something stirring in my center. The unwanted thoughts of our kiss in his spelling cabin drifted in my mind reminding me how sweet he had tasted, of wine and growing things. I tried to repress the memories. "You look wonderful tonight," Trent's musical voice echoed through me. Damn I forgot how much I love the sound of his voice.

I looked at him realizing he had been watching me while we dance and probably knew where my mind had drifted off to. "Thank you," I said as I managed to breath. Needing to break eye contact, I sent my gaze to the crowd and realized that most everyone was watching us. Just great, now the rumors about us secretly dating are going to be even harder to denounce. Thankfully the song ended and Trent brought us to a halt off the dance floor.

Trent again lead me with his hand rested on my back "Come on there is someone who wants to speak with you," His voice sounded amused.

As we approached a group I recognized the low voice and broad shoulders of a man. "David," I said in near shock. He turned and smiled at me. It was rare that I got to see David despite the fact that he was my alpha. I stepped out of Trent's reach and gave the man a warm hug. The musky scent of were engulfed me and I breathed deep enjoying his rich smell enhanced by the Focus. Once released from the hug I took a step back to give a more comfortable distance. Trent placed a hand on me once more and I eyed him curiously for a moment before turning back to David.

"How have you been?"

"Oh you know me, if I'm not getting into trouble I'm making it," I said with a playful smile.

"That sounds like my alpha," David beamed back. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone approach Trent and he was forced to step away. "Is there something I should know," David asked shifting his eyes between Trent and me.

I raised my eyebrows, wishing I could do the one eyebrow thing. "Not unless I've been left out of the loop too." It was said with enough humor that David rolled his eyes.

Before David could make another comment, Trent turned back to us with a serious look. "I'm sorry but it appears Captain Edden is here and needs to speak with us." His tone gave me pause.

"Is everything ok?" I could not hide my worry.

"He didn't say what it's about." Trent turned to David, "I'm sorry to cut your reunion short but we must go see what Captain Edden needs."

"No problem," David replied smoothly before turning to me. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it." My smile was honest and I knew David could tell.

His movement for a goodbye hug cut short when Trent once again placed a hand on my lower back. Geez what is it with him tonight. He recovered and turned the motion into an arm squeeze. "Take care." His eyes shifted to Trent then back to me telling me that if I needed anything just to let him know.