A/N: I missed these characters over the summer and then I heard a joke that made me realize exactly how Francine and Dieter Volkenauer ended up together that night in my story, "Keep Your Friends Closer", so I asked them if I was right. This is what they said.

Lost in that haze between exhaustion and adrenaline, it took Francine longer than it should have to take in that someone had fallen into step beside her as she walked across the lobby of the Agency's bureau in Paris. Stopping dead, she swivelled and found herself looking up at Dieter Volkenauer.

"Oh" she said, too tired to hide her confusion - and maybe just a tiny bit of pleasure - at finding him there. "Hello."

A smile twitched across his lips before he resumed his usual hangdog expression. "Hello," he replied politely. "I am very glad to have caught you before you left."

"Oh, did I forget something?" She glanced back toward the offices behind them. She'd just spent five hours nailing down every detail of the day's events, exchanging phone calls and then telexes with Billy, arranging for the Marlers to be handed into the care of a Marine guard and transported to the American Ambassador's residence and endless, endless paperwork with the French authorities. It didn't seem that any stone could have been left unturned and yet here was Interpol at her elbow at 8 o'clock at night. She sagged a little at the thought.

Dieter studied her for a moment, then took her elbow gently and turned her back toward the exit. "No, except perhaps that I am buying you dinner."

"Oh, you really don't have to do that," she answered guiltily. "Have you been waiting all this time just for that? I was kidding about that, honestly."

Dieter gave a dry chuckle. "Let me try that a different way, hmm? You have forgotten that you promised to let me buy you dinner, perhaps?"

He drew her inexorably out onto the street and turned left, waiting to make sure she was still moving before dropping his hand from the small of her back.

"Did I promise that? I feel like you've misinterpreted something along the way here," she continued to argue.

"Ach no," he teased. "I have witnesses. I am sure Frau King would confirm my impression. Shall we go to the hotel and ask her?"

"God no!" Francine exclaimed. "Lee would probably kill me."

"Well then," he turned and gave her that wicked grin she'd found so attractive the night before. "You said I could buy you dinner last night before we became… distracted… and you told Amanda again this afternoon that you would take care of me. You cannot be so heartless and withdraw a third time, I think?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" she smiled back at him. "But I can't guarantee I'll be good company – it's been a hell of a day."

"Then I must entertain you, and you must eat," he answered. "There is a bistro not far from here – I go there often when I am in Paris."

Francine glanced down at the clothes she'd been in all day and grimaced at the sight of her ruined shoes – ruined after a few hours sloshing through the sewers of Paris in pursuit of Russian kidnappers and Amanda.

"I don't know," she began, starting to slow her pace. "I'm not really fit to go anywhere. My shoes..."

"It is just a neighborhood restaurant," Dieter answered soothingly, his hand rising again to rest against her back. "Families, small children, the occasional dog – no one will be looking at your shoes."

"The occasional dog, huh?" Francine lifted a brow. "At least I can stop suspecting you're trying to sweep me off my feet with romance."

"No sweeping will be necessary," said Dieter. "The cassoulet will seduce you long before I ever could. It is everything I am not," he went on, warming to his theme. "Warm, delightful… rich." He shot her a sideways look, grinning when he saw her smile despite herself.

"That does sound good," she said, no longer able to hide the note of longing her voice. "And I am starving..."

"Das ist gut," he said, guiding her around a corner. "Because they also have a chocolate mousse that is famous through every quadrant of Paris."

"Oh" Francine couldn't hold in the little sigh of happiness at the thought of that. "Can we start with that?"

Dieter chuckled and shook his head. "Madame Tremblay would never allow it," he answered.

"Who is Madame Tremblay and why do we care what she thinks?" she asked.

"The owner," Dieter said. "She is…" he paused to think of the word. "A mothering person, yes? She will want to feed you as soon as she sees you."

"Why?" asked Francine, suspiciously.

"She feeds everyone," said Dieter, evasively.

Francine stopped dead and planted her hands on her hips. "And?"

Dieter sighed. "And you have little shadows here, ja?" He ran a finger under his own eye.

"Great – so I'm filthy and I look terrible?" Francine fumed. "This is ridiculous – I'm just going to go back to the hotel and order room service."

She started to turn before Dieter grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "I did not say you looked terrible, I said you looked tired," he lectured her. "And you will feel better with a proper meal." He paused and grinned at her mutinous expression. "And then there is your promise."

"I didn't promise you could annoy me!"

"Mein Gott, ein anderer Igel," Dieter muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?" snapped Francine. She couldn't for the life of her remember what "Igel" meant but she was pretty sure she wouldn't like it.

"Fraulein Desmond," said Dieter in his best soothing voice. "When was the last time you ate a proper meal?"

Francine opened her mouth to answer, then gently closed it again while she tried to remember.

"We didn't get to finish dinner last night, hmm?" Dieter prodded. "Then maybe some breakfast… then lunch today was interrupted by our adventure, yes? And you have been in interviews and paperwork since you helped rescue Frau King, correct?"

She nodded unwillingly.

"And perhaps you get mies drauf when you are hungry?" He cocked an eye at her as she smiled at that phrase and went on coaxing. "So please, come eat, ja?"

Francine gave off a sigh. "Yes, fine, I will come eat. You're right – I'm just cranky."

"You and Lee are much alike," agreed Dieter, lips twitching as he turned to continue leading her down the street. "You are both kleine Igel."

"Little what?" she asked, still suspicious.

"Little, umm, what did Lee call it?" Dieter pursed his lips and looked skyward as they walked. "Oh yes! Hedgehog!"

"Hedgehog?" repeated Francine in disbelief.

"Ja, when Lee is uhhh, cranky, and he rubs his hair, just so…" Dieter lifted a hand and made a rubbing motion near his head. "He is…hedgehog."

Francine stared at him before giving into a peal of laughter. "Oh God, you are so right. I can't believe I never thought of that." She stopped abruptly and lifted her hand to her hair. "Wait a minute – are you saying I..?"

"No, no, of course not," answered Dieter. "I just meant you are acting pricky."

"Prickly," she corrected him, starting to smile again. "Not pricky."

"Really?" quizzed Dieter. "But how could that be right when they are covered in tiny…"

"Stop!" Francine was laughing hard now. "Trust me! It's prickly!"

"If you say so," replied Dieter with a small smile that made her realize he'd known it all along.

"You are really something, aren't you?" she asked rhetorically.

"If you say so," repeated Dieter, steering her into a doorway and then ushering her into the small bistro.

Francine's mouth began watering at the smell of cooking. She'd known she was hungry but now she realized just how ravenous she was. A tiny woman had come forward and was ushering them to a table in an instant, chattering with the Austrian as with an old friend and only barely disguising the assessing look she was giving Francine. Volkenauer had described the restaurant well – it had maybe ten tables, and a few outside on the sidewalk. It wasn't busy and they had the corner to themselves; Francine sank gratefully onto the bench seat and tilted her head back against the leather upholstery and closed her eyes with a happy sigh.

"A glass of something to start?" Dieter asked her and her eyes snapped open.

"Uhhh, no thank you. Just water please," she replied.

"Are you sure? The wine list is excellent…"

"No, I can't. I mean, I can and normally I would, but after last night, I…"

A look of annoyance flashed across Volkenauer's face and for an instant, she wondered if she'd thwarted some scheme of his to pick up where Leslie O'Connor had left off the night before. She straightened, getting ready to let him have it.

"I am an idiot – I should have thought of that. My apologies," he muttered and she realized that he was annoyed with himself. "Lemonade? A soft drink?"

"Just water please. Still, not sparkling." She had switched to French and smiled up at the woman who had seated them. "Merci, Madame." The woman nodded, as Dieter ordered himself a glass of wine, then left them perusing the menu.

"I don't know why I'm looking," Francine murmured. "I've been craving cassoulet since you mentioned it."

"It is my favourite dish here," he agreed, putting his own menu down.

"So you come here often?" she asked, following suit.

He shrugged. "I am often in Paris and there is a small hotel in this arrondissement that suits me. They recommended this place and now it is a favourite."

"Do you often bring… friends?" she asked, remembering the look the owner had given her.

"I am not usually here with friends," he shrugged. "I usually work alone."

"But you've been on a case with Lee for the last month," she pointed out, eyes narrowing.

"An aberration," he allowed.

"So why does he rate an aberration?" she asked 'What were you two doing all this time?"

"You don't know?" asked Dieter. When she shook her head, he leaned in and said in a confiding tone, "Well, if you don't know what Lee was working on, I'm probably not allowed to tell you."

Francine leaned in, glaring. "Well then," she said slowly. "Why don't you tell me what you were working on instead?"

Dieter leaned back and considered that. "I'm not sure I can."

"Oh really? Because I'm certain the one thing I did hear Lee say earlier was that he was really grateful for all your unofficial help." She jabbed a finger at him while Dieter tried not to smile. "So, in my book, that means you can tell me everything because you weren't doing anything official."

"You might have a point," he acknowledged.

"And you might have a story to tell me over dinner," she said. "So spill."

"It's not my story to tell," he hedged.

"Who are you protecting?" she asked with a shrewd look. "Lee?" She tilted her head. "No, that doesn't make sense but you're still acting exactly like Lee does when something's going to happen to Amanda… Wait a minute - is it something to do with Amanda? Oh my God, what does Amanda need protecting from?"

She could tell from his expression she'd nailed it. And yet…

"Nothing! She needed protecting from nothing!" he protested. "Lee just didn't want her involved because of the person involved."

Francine could feel the prick of disappointment. "Old girlfriend?" she said, trying to make it sound light.

"Ach, no," Dieter tut-tutted.

"Look, you know Amanda is making him spill everything right now, so you may as well tell me because otherwise he'll just have to re-tell the whole thing when I get hold of him tomorrow. And wouldn't you rather stay in my good books and be the one to confess all?" She lifted a brow and stared at Dieter, hiding her smile when he slumped and she knew she'd won.

"Harry Hollinger," he muttered. "He was accidentally released early. Lee came to track him down before he could defect."

"What?" In all her guesses, somehow that one had never entered her mind. "Harry is loose?

"Not anymore."

"And that was a secret from me and Amanda because… Oh. Munich. Right"

Dieter gave a small shrug. "She couldn't have come on such a long mission. And he thought if she was home, she would not be reliving it."

"You think she doesn't relive it anyway?" asked Francine rhetorically. "And even though he was probably right," she conceded, "if he and Billy had told us, I could have helped her."

"This Billy – he is your boss, ja? Does he know? About what happened to Amanda?"

Francine looked struck by the question. "No, you're right – I don't think he does."

Dieter spread his hands in a there-you-go gesture.

"So Lee just headed off to fix everything by himself? Of course he did," she answered her own question, shaking her head. "Oh wait, no he didn't – he had you. But he said you were unofficial?"

"I was officially unofficial," agreed Dieter. "Interpol was annoyed Hollinger had been released, but we must maintain good relations with local police, you know?

Francine nodded.

"And Lee did not know I would be helping until I told him."

"Well, it's good he had someone. He gets into trouble when he's left alone."

The restaurant owner materialized at their elbows, took their orders and disappeared again.

"He missed having you to help," commented Dieter, startling her.

"What?"

Dieter's dark eyes twinkled over the edge of his wineglass as he sipped his drink before going on. "Lee – he missed you, both you and Amanda. I got quite sick of sentences that started 'If Francine were here' and 'Me and Amanda and Francine'…"

"You're kidding me."

"Why do you think I wanted to take you for dinner?" Dieter smiled. "I knew Amanda, a little bit, of course, but he made you sound very… interesting."

"Oh really?" Francine wasn't sure whether she should be complimented or insulted by that adjective.

"Really," Dieter nodded. "Very smart, very brave. He said I would like you." He diplomatically left out Lee's constant jokes that he would particularly like Francine for her looks.

"Huh. I can just imagine what he said," she replied, her tone making it clear she had a very good idea indeed of Lee's sense of humor. Francine surveyed her tablemate, head tilted as she did. "And what do you think so far?"

"You have exceeded my expectations," replied Dieter, with a serious expression. "Last night, you were so brave… I am sorry I wasn't quicker to interfere with Fraulein O'Connor."

Francine waved off his apology. "Hey, we got her in the end and that's all that matters. I just got left with a queasy stomach and a hunk of her hair in my fingers."

"And then today – to go down into the sewers," he went on. "There is not a lot you won't do for your friends, I think."

"I don't have many," she quipped. "Gotta keep 'em around somehow."

"You and Lee really are very alike," he sighed.

Before Francine could ask him what he meant by that, the restaurant owner re-appeared and placed a charcuterie board between them.

"Oh Madame, we did not or-" Francine started to say, but was interrupted.

"Vous avez faim. Vous devez manger," said the woman gruffly, with a pointed look at Dieter who immediately looked repentant. You're hungry. You must eat.

"Vouz avez raison, Madame," he nodded. You're right. He pushed the plate closer to Francine. "Try the paté – it's made here in the restaurant."

Francine reached out to spread some on a piece of bread and took a bite, moaning with appreciation when it hit her taste buds, and looking up to beam at the owner. "Delicieux, Madame," she complimented her as the woman smiled back and nodded. "Merveilleux."

"Bon," the owner replied in gruff tones, and vanished again.

"I'm sorry – I should have thought to order something to start," Dieter began to apologize before Francine waved at him to stop.

"Don't be silly – I need room for the mousse anyway," she smiled. "And I honestly didn't realize how hungry I was until just now. Now," she leaned in, "You were going to tell me all about everything you and Lee have been up to for the past month."

Dieter studied her for a moment before giving a shrug. "Nothing very exciting, really. Lee came to Munich, we traced Hollinger from there to Berlin to Strasbourg, where we found him more or less by accident, and we put him on a plane back to America yesterday." He stopped and frowned. "That can't be right… no, it was really only yesterday." He shook his head. "I cannot believe that is possible."

Francine smiled as she ate another serving from the small platter. "Crazy isn't it? It gets like that around Lee and Amanda sometimes. What did you mean you found Harry by accident?"

"We were on our way to the bars to look for him because we had figured out he was picking up young men there to have a place to sleep at night, and we interrupted him being beaten by some thugs."

"Picking up young men? You mean Harry's gay?" Francine stopped and thought about that. "Yeah, actually that shouldn't surprise me at all. He never hit on me." She glanced at Dieter as he snorted. "Oh I know that sounds self-centred, but most guys, especially macho agent types, they do it by reflex with any pretty woman, and when the woman is the key to staying on their boss' good side..." She shrugged. "But Harry never did." Her eyes went wide as she thought through the story. "So wait – did you and Lee have to go to all the gay bars looking for him?"

Dieter nodded, smiling as she began to laugh. "They never hit on me either," he joked in mock sorrow. "Especially not when I was with such a pretty partner."

"How on earth did Lee cope with that?" she asked in a wondering voice. "I mean, talk about your macho agent type!"

"Very well, actually," said Dieter. He stopped for a moment, remembering that first bar and the way Lee had gone suddenly pale and almost panic-stricken before collecting himself. "Well, maybe not at first but soon after, he just acted the way he'd act in a regular bar, you know? He made a few jokes that made me think he'd had to go into some before, but he was not comfortable, I think."

"I'm going to have go digging through his old mission notes," she grinned. "Maybe see what secrets he's been hiding about embarrassing cases."

"If this what you do to friends…" began Dieter in a pious tone.

"Oh, you really wouldn't want to be on my bad side," said Francine. "Just ask Leslie O'Connor."

"Indeed," replied Dieter, toasting her with his wine. "Here's to remaining on your good side."

"To friends – old and new," agreed Francine, lifting her glass of water.

Francine was feeling positively mellow by the end of the meal. The meal had been as good as promised, particularly the chocolate mousse. Dieter had wordlessly pushed his toward her when he saw how much she was enjoying it.

"You don't have to do that," she protested – not quite meaning it.

"I am not the man to stand between a woman and her pleasure," he quipped.

"I really shouldn't," she sighed, although she was gazing at it with longing.

"You really should – if you don't get to have two desserts after spending a day in a sewer, there is no justice," he grinned. "And besides, haven't you figured out by now that it is part of my grand seduction plan?"

"I like how you think," she conceded, sliding the bowl closer and starting to eat it before he could change his mind. "Just like Amanda – she brought me burritos when I got shot. Not that she was trying to seduce me," she added quickly. "She just understands the curative qualities of the right food at the right time."

"You were shot?" asked Dieter, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"Just a little bit," shrugged Francine. "In the leg – just a through and through. I've had worse."

Dieter dropped his face into his hands in an attempt to muffle his laughter. "Just a little bit," he managed to say. "Mein Gott, you are truly an Amazon."

"Oh, I don't think so," Francine waved her spoon at him. "Amazons are all six feet tall and built like bodybuilders, aren't they?"

"Apparently not," he answered. "You are living proof they can be small and explosive."

Francine eyed him over the table. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

"You forget – I said that Lee told me all about you," Dieter twinkled at her.

"So that means it's an insult then."

"No, it means I am much too afraid of you to insult you."

She twirled her spoon and studied him thoughtfully. "You make a good point. It's nice to know I can still put the fear of God into Lee Stetson." She scraped the last of the mousse out of her - well, Dieter's – bowl and gave a sigh. "That was delicious. Thank you for making me come out for dinner."

"It was entirely my pleasure."

With a flurry of thank-yous and good nights with the restaurant owner, he paid the bill and they began the walk back to the hotel through the light rain that had started to fall. Without a word, Dieter pulled off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, over her protests.

"You have spent enough time being wet today," he teased her.

She gave in gracefully, sliding her arms into the sleeves for added warmth. "Thank you - I really am grateful," Francine remarked. "You've been very sweet, looking after me tonight."

"It truly was a delight," he replied. "But I cannot take all the credit for the idea."

"Let me guess – Amanda told you to make sure I got fed." Francine rolled her eyes knowingly.

"Actually – no. That was Lee."

She stopped dead and turned to stare at him. "Lee? Lee Stetson? You honestly expect me to believe Lee had anything on his mind except Amanda today?"

"You seem much too surprised by that," he chided her. "Before they left the hospital, he asked me to help you with anything you might need. He was worried you would get involved in getting everything done and work all night without someone to stop you."

"Lee asked you to babysit me?" Her voice was rising a little and her hands went to her hips.

"No, he did not. He asked me to help you," Dieter lectured her. "But of course, you did not need any at your work." He gave a small shrug. "So I was coming to take you out for dinner when you came out of the Agency." he raised a hand when it looked like she was about to make a tart reply. "And I would have done so whether or not either of them had asked - I enjoyed meeting you and wanted to get to know you better, hmm?"

Francine studied him for a moment before relaxing slightly and turning to begin walking again. "I'm sorry - that was rude of me. I just get annoyed when I think someone is trying to be Big Strong Man around me."

"Igel" murmured Dieter under his breath.

"Oh, like that should surprise you," replied Francine. "If Lee has really told you so many stories about me."

"That might be true," conceded Dieter. "But he always smiles when he talks about you."

"Because he's telling stories that make me look bad?" she asked.

"Not always." Dieter managed to keep his face straight, but the sidelong look he gave her told a different tale. He started to laugh when she grimaced. "Not very often, in fact. Mostly they were funny things you have said to insult him - he enjoys that. And he is very grateful that you looked after Amanda so well, of course."

Francine grimaced again. "He didn't tell you I wasn't so nice when I first met her, did he?"

"He did not." Dieter looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You did not like her? And yet she is very likeable?"

"She is - and I kind of resented that at first because I'm good at being charming but not always at being friendly - do you know what I mean?" She waited for him to nod. "And I was annoyed that she just sort of swanned in to the job, you know? Well, I didn't think she'd last - I thought she was some kind of a dilettante who'd get bored by it or scared off. And if I'm honest, she was a reminder that I'd gotten people killed, that I'd almost gotten Lee killed." She waved off his questioning look. "Long story - a case that went bad."

Dieter allowed an understanding expression to cross his face. Everyone in their jobs knew about cases where things had gone wrong - even just that day, they'd faced that, although in this instance, everything had worked out.

"Anyway," Francine went on. "It took me a long time to realize how much I'd underestimated her and start to like her. But you're right, she's just so damn likeable that it was way more effort to dislike her than to just give in. And she makes a killer poppyseed cake, so it's good to stay on her good side too."

"Well, if you would like to know the truth…" Dieter began, sneaking a look to make sure he had her interest. "Lee asked me to look after you this evening and make sure you ate, but it was Amanda who gave me instructions to feed you chocolate."

Francine's smile lit up her whole face. "Another reason why I like her - she's got her priorities straight."

"Yes," he went on, straightfaced. "It was Amanda that told me it was the best way to seduce you."

Francine stopped dead and turned to face him, jaw dropped open. "What?"

Dieter pursed his lips and looked at the heavens before finally saying, "Well, that part might have been Lee."

"You know, if you're not sure," said Francine, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Maybe we should just go ask them."

Dieter laughed and shook his head. "You win. It is not worth my life to even think about that."

"First thing you need to know - I always win," smirked Francine.

"Your love of being competitive may also have been mentioned," replied Dieter serenely.

"If you're really attempting to seduce me, you are really going about it the wrong way," she shot back.

"Really?" he grinned back at her. "Because you are smiling and I count that as a win for me, no?"

As they approached the hotel door, Francine realized she really was smiling and struggled for a moment to look severe before giving up with a chuckle. It was rare to find someone who gave as good as he got - Lee was probably the last person she'd dated who'd aimed to tickle her funny bone instead of other more obvious body parts.

"Perhaps we could continue this competition over breakfast together?" asked Dieter.

"You're assuming a lot there, buddy," she shot back, hackles rising.

"Really?" he looked honestly confused. "I thought since we were in the same hotel, we could…"

"Oh God, I'm sorry," she put out a hand to stop him. "I thought you meant… Usually when a guy says he expects to have breakfast with you...I'm sorry, I'm the one making stupid assumptions now."

"No, no, I see why you misunderstood," he said. "We will just put it down to a language misunderstanding, ja?"

"Yes," she answered gratefully. "And yes, breakfast would be lovely. As you say, I won't even have to worry about you showing up late since - oh no!" she gasped, turning to Dieter with a stricken expression. "I forgot your room!"

"I beg your pardon?" Dieter was confused by the rapid change in subject.

"Lee asked me to find you a room for tonight because he was moving Amanda into the one you were sharing and I completely forgot with everything else that was going on! And the hotel is still full of conference delegates and they probably rented out the room the Marlers were in already!"

Dieter stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "No matter. If there is not a room in this hotel, there are many others in the area. I just need to collect my bag from your room - if Lee remembered to leave it there for me."

"No, no, that's not right!" Francine was looking pained. "The three of us have done nothing but cause you problems since you got here. You were supposed to be home by now, not homeless on the streets of Paris!"

Dieter's lips twitched. "I'm hardly that, Miss Desmond. Paris is unlikely to have run out of rooms."

"No, but it's late and you bought me dinner and I was supposed to do one thing… Well, this is ridiculous. We'll just have to share."

Dieter's eyes went wide. "We… what?"

"We'll share," she repeated in a patient tone. "We're adults. It's a big room. You know I know seventeen different ways to hurt you if you try anything. We'll share."

He surveyed her for a moment before allowing himself a small smile. "Only seventeen?" He moved to let her walk into the hotel past the doorman holding open the door, then followed her in.

"Off the top of my head," she replied with a grin over her shoulder. "I'm sure I can come up with more." She slowed down as she noticed the strained expression on his face. "You know I'm kidding, right? I wouldn't offer to share if I thought you were anything but a gentleman."

Dieter gave her a strained smile. "No, no, I am sure you will not have to hurt me." He waved her on toward the elevator across the lobby. "Of course, you are assuming I haven't learned ways to counterattack all these seventeen ways," he continued.

"Did you forget already? I always win. And I've had to learn so many, many pressure points to defend myself over the years…"

She thought that would make him laugh but Dieter just nodded stiffly and followed her into the elevator. The ride up was silent, Francine leaning back against the wall watching him while he stared at the door, small furrow creasing his brow.

As they entered the room she'd been sharing with Amanda, Francine glanced around, nodding to where Lee had left Dieter's bag. "Well, at least one of us remembered what they were meant to do." She looked around a second time. "And Amanda took everything, so I guess she's not planning on coming back anytime soon. She'll be lucky if Lee lets her out of his sight for the next year after this."

They shared a knowing look as Dieter picked up his bag from the floor by the door and moved it further into the room. Francine slipped his jacket off her shoulders and hung it carefully over a chair back to dry.

"Thank you again for that. It was very kind."

Dieter shook his head sorrowfully. "You keep saying things like that as if you are surprised by any polite gesture."

"It's easier to assume the worst in people in my job," she quipped. "You get taken by surprise less that way."

Dieter crossed the room and began opening closet doors.

"Talk about assuming the worst - are you looking for bad guys?" Francine asked, watching him with curiosity.

"No," he answered, closing the door with a small frown. "I'm looking for extra blankets." She still looked confused so he added helpfully. "So I can sleep on the floor."

"On the floor? Why on earth do you think you have to sleep on the floor?" She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Did I ever say anything like that? When I said we could share, I didn't just mean the room! I mean, it was my mistake you don't have a room - if anyone is going to sleep on the floor, it's me!"

"Absolutely not!" Dieter looked horrified. "I cannot allow that! Even if you were not a lady, after everything you've been through today, that would not be right! You must take the bed." He looked around, peering into the dim corners of the room. "Ah! There is a sofa! You see, it will be fine."

There was another silence as they both stared at the tiny sofa, then Francine spun slightly to look him up and down with a measuring look.

"Six foot Austrian and five foot French sofa is 'fine'?" she asked with saccharine sweetness. "Even I wouldn't be comfortable on that thing."

"Or the floor," he repeated feebly. "Either one."

"You know, I think I'm insulted that you'd prefer to sleep on the floor than share a bed with me."

"I never said I'd prefer it," he answered quickly. "But after our breakfast misunderstanding, I thought it would be better."

Francine gazed at him, trying to decide how to take that, but his expression was unreadable.

Dieter walked to the opposite side of the bed and picked up the wrapped chocolate lying on the nearest pillow. "Okay fine, yes, I will accept your generous offer to share the bed, but you get both of these, ja?" He tossed it to her with an apologetic smile and she caught it between her hands.

"Usually guys try to seduce me with chocolate to get into my bed," she said, still trying to figure out his mood. "Not after they're already in. Not that I couldn't change my mind and kick you out, I guess." She paused as a slight frown reappeared on Dieter's face. "Not that I would. That would be rude after you worked so hard to get there. Okay, seriously - what's the matter?" she asked as his frown deepened.

"It is I that has been rude this evening," he answered seriously. "If I had known…"

"Rude? How?" Francine was completely at sea. "You have been a perfect gentleman all evening."

"No, I have not," he said in a gruff tone. "When we were talking earlier, there were many jokes that I was trying to seduce you but I would not have made them if I thought we were going to have to share a room. I should not have made them at all, I realize now."

"You weren't trying to seduce me?" she asked, brow raised.

"I was flirting with you, yes," he said. "But it didn't mean anything." Francine raised a brow and he raced to clarify. "A man would be have to be dead not to flirt with a woman as beautiful as you but I have no expectation you would be interested in someone like me."

"Someone like you? What does that mean?"

Dieter made an up and down gesture along his body. "Someone who is… not Lee Stetson," he answered, with a self-deprecating smile.

Francine's eyes flared with anger and hands moved to her hips. "First off, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look and second, you honestly think I date people based entirely on their looks? Do you know how insulting that is? I thought we had just had a perfectly nice evening and now you're saying you were only flirting with me because you thought I was pretty? Seems like I'm not the shallow one here!"

"Ach no, of course I wasn't!" he protested. "You are very beautiful but I enjoyed tonight because you are… you" he finished lamely under her gimlet gaze. "You are funny and warm and smart. Nett."

"Kind?" Francine snorted. "Bet Leslie O'Connor would disagree with you on that."

Dieter made a dismissive sound. "She does not deserve kindness, that one." He shuffled his feet and tried again. "Francine… I truly enjoyed this evening and if we had had time to get to know each other for longer, I would enjoy continuing to flirt with you to try and spend even more time with you but for tonight - well, I didn't want you to think I was presuming anything because we are sharing a room. And a bed."

Francine walked around the bed in question and stood in front of him, speculative gleam in her eye. "It seems like you're the one doing all the presuming here," she said. "For all you know, I didn't forget to get you a room at all and I've lured you here for my own nefarious purposes."

"Ne-far-i-ous?" he sounded out the word carefully. "I'm sorry, my English sometimes…"

"Schändlich," she said in German, stepping closer and placing her hands on his shoulders, and reaching up to drop a light kiss on his lips, much to his shock. "Shameful. Schlimm…bad. übel… evil." She gave him a brief kiss after each word, then pressed closer for a longer one, chuckling against his mouth as he scrambled mentally to catch up and kiss her back.

"Oh," he breathed out, when she finally pulled away. "Nefarious...I think I might enjoy nefarious."

"I think I might too," she smiled against his lips.

Dieter drew her back in and kissed her again. "You know, I have wanted to do that since yesterday."

"When we met?" she teased him. "I noticed that."

"Hmm, perhaps a little then, but later? When you had a piece of Miss O'Connor's hair in one hand and bruised knuckles from punching her with the other?" he murmured against her cheek. "Very much so."

"Really? " she asked, fingers trailing through his hair. "Killer blonde is your type?"

"You looked like a Valkyrie."

"Now you see, I win again because I wanted to kiss you much earlier than that."

"You did?" Dieter pulled back to study her face.

"Oh yes - when your face lit up when I suggested how we could get that bitch."

Dark eyes twinkled into hers. "The next time was when you insisted on going into the sewer. You are very attractive when you are determined."

"Funny - I wanted to kiss you then too. You looked even more like a worried basset hound than usual."

"You wanted to kiss me because I looked like a dog?"

"I'm afraid so," she smiled up at him.

"You are never afraid of anything, I think."

"I'm afraid of a lot of things - smart people always are. But fear is a great aphrodisiac, don't you think?"

"Well, you know, Freud said there was only one thing that comes between fear and sex," said Dieter, nibbling her ear.

"And what's that?" she managed to gasp out.

"Fünf."

Francine pulled away and glared up at him. "Did you seriously just use a grade school pun as a seduction technique?"

"That depends. Did it work?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "That mustache and that joke? My libido is taking a beating here."

"What is it with Americans hating my mustache?" Dieter started to laugh.

"Too many movies where the bad guy has one, just so he can twirl it evilly, I guess," she answered, running her thumb along it.

"Just the bad guys?" asked Dieter. "Because Lee said it reminded him of the men in American pornography movies - so that would make it very sexy, no?"

Francine began to laugh helplessly. "God no!" Dieter lifted an eyebrow and she stopped, racing to clarify. "I mean, no, it's not that it's not sexy, wait, no, I mean, it's not unattractive! I meant that it's not attractive on a porn star. Not that I've seen a lot of those, it's just…" She stopped at the strangled noise he gave off, realizing Dieter was shaking slightly as he tried not to laugh out loud at her. "Oh for God's sake, you're turning me into Amanda, making me say stupid things."

"It's the power of the mustache," he grinned, smoothing it carefully.

"Do you lose your superpowers when you don't have it?" she asked.

"I would not like to tempt fate," he replied. "I've always had it."

"Really? Because I think you'd be much cuter without it," she said, speculative gleam in her eye.

"I thought we did not care about looks?" he shot back with an arched brow.

"True… but it is so very ticklish…"

Dieter gave a theatrical sigh. "We have only one night together and you are concerned about being tickled?"

"I don't leave until Monday," she corrected him. "That's two nights."

"But I should go back home tomorrow," he pointed out. "My superiors are aware I am done with this case. they will be expecting me back."

"Well," Francine drawled out the single syllable thoughtfully. "I'm sure I can come up with some more questions I need to ask you about everything that happened today…"

"Enough to fill a whole extra day?" he grinned.

"Mm-hmm," she answered. "We at the Agency like to be very thorough. But, of course, it would all depend on tonight going well. After all it might not be worth my time to keep you away from home to continue the interrogation if you were… uncooperative."

She reached up and pulled his head down into a long languorous kiss, a kiss which, by the time it ended, had been long enough for various buttons to be undone and for hands to begin to skim along heated flesh. It was Dieter who finally broke it off so that they could catch their breath, foreheads touching and fingers still idly caressing.

"I should go shave."

"You should go shave."