There is something seriously wrong with me that is the only explanation that I can come up with that may serve to explain my current actions. I don't normally find the need to explain any of my actions, nor am I normally required to, this is of course one of the perks of being the boss. Well that and knowing what kind of actions to avoid to ensure that I don't get in trouble with my own boss.

Part of me is also sure that what I am doing right now would most certainly fall under the jurisdiction of 'things that would piss the Director off.' But then again the Director is not in the same position as I am right now. He was not the one who had the body of a beautiful woman pressed up against him just an hour and half ago. Not that I would want him to have been in my shoes and to have to deal with the aftermath. Cause the beautiful woman in question is not just any woman; this woman is Special Agent Caitlin Todd, ex-Secret Service, trained profiler, and the first woman in many years that can drive me insane with just a look. Yeah I would call that a lethal combination, one that doesn't even bring weapons into the picture.

I had always had a thing for strong career women, women exactly like Kate, though either regretfully or thankfully, I learned my lesson three-times over. Too bad I can't figure out whether it is something to regret or be thankful for. But it was a lesson I learned well. Never let a woman control you, or be capable of controlling your actions. With this history in mind you would think that I would have recognized what I was getting into, but I didn't, that would have just made things way too easy. I didn't make the connection between my reactions to her on Air Force One, my almost daily interactions with her, and what happened today on the Philadelphia.

Had I been able to connect the dots I might have realized that I subconsciously treasure her presence. That I like just being around her, watching her as she goes about her everyday business. Case in point what I am doing now, watching her, instead of working on an after action report like I should be.

Yeah just watching, my back resting against the wall, in the exact same spot it rested ninety minutes before. I wonder if she is paying any attention to me as I study her, wondering as well why I never let myself do this sooner. She is graceful even doing paperwork, her hand simply beautiful as she moves a pen effortlessly across the page. Why after being in a position to do so for three months did I not indulge in this newfound pastime known as Katie watching?

One of the few remaining sensible molecules in my brain are screaming at me that I am acting like a perverted old man. Though the rest of my mind already has an explanation prepared. For one I am not that old, and two all I have been doing is observing a beautiful woman, who just so happens to be a subordinate, with no sexual thoughts in mind at all; until now.

Almost against my will my eyes are drawn to her lips, soft and lush pieces of human anatomy that I will never be able to feel against my own, all because she works for me. Damn rules, both mine and the agency's. Though it isn't like I haven't broken both sets before. I notice the small beads of perspiration that have gathered at the base of her throat. By products of the subs recent and nessicary lack of air-conditioning. Slowly I allow my eyes to trail a path up her neck, over her mouth, past her nose, to her eyes; eyes that are no longer focused on the papers before her but instead are locked with mine.

For a moment I lean further back against the wall steadying myself, afraid to move and break whatever this connection between us is. I know I should drop my gaze, or speak, or do something, anything. I don't, it comes as a bit of a shock to realize that I don't want to. That I no longer care whether or not she knows what I was doing, no longer care if it was completely unprofessional and inappropriate. The only thing I can seem to get myself to care about is whether I will ever again be able to just watch her.

Moments pass, I don't know how many minutes it may have been or if in fact a full minute has even passed. I do know that she has blinked exactly sixteen times, and that with every blink I fully expect her to go back to the work sitting on the wardroom table. She doesn't. Every time her eyes close for that half a millisecond they reopen and remain locked with mine. I register that her eyes, which I had always thought were a simple deep chocolate brown, are far from simple. There are little flicks of gold throughout. Even as I realize this little fact I allow some other part of my mind to take notice that this is perhaps the weirdest situation that I have even been in.

After her thirty-first blink her eyes don't come back up to mine. I practically wince at the loss of contact, wondering when exactly I left my bastard persona behind in favor of this sentimental wuss man persona that I seem to be sporting. After once more pulling myself from my stupid wonderings I become aware of what my eyes have been trying to tell me for the past thirty seconds. That the link between her eyes and mine is back in operation, only this time I don't have to strain to make out small nuances in her brown orbs, this time she is standing just a foot in front of me.

She looks up at me, her face contorted in a strange expression that seems to convey both a question and knowledge at the same time. I see soft lines form at the corners of her eyes and move my gaze over the rest of her face in search of the cause. My eyes fall on the smug half smile that graces her lips. Those very beautiful, still very much unattainable lips.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks. None of the answers that pop into my head will ever pass muster. It would hardly be appropriate to say 'you' or 'just how beautiful you are'. So I settle for the tried and trusted answer of men throughout the ages.

"Nothing." At my answer her smile grows wider and her eyes sparkle. What is going on here? 'Nothing' does not normally get or merit this response.

"Oh, I think I know, and I hope you don't consider this something to be nothing." Her voice is soft and has a quality that I have never heard before. If I had to hazard a guess I might have called such a quality seductive, but surely I would have guessed wrong.

I don't reply, seeing this as by far the safest course of action. I press back against the wall behind me, wondering as I do when my back lost contact, as she inches closer. Silently I curse myself for not moving away from my post sooner, when I had the chance, because now I'm trapped between the sturdy wall and her.

I don't know what has caused my rapid shift in opinion, from not caring if she noticed what I was doing, to worrying almost uncontrollably. Maybe it was her reaction. I had been expecting at worse an angry lecture on inappropriate behavior, and at best the simple non-admission that anything had ever happened. I certainly wasn't expecting this, especially as I feel her fingers trailing lightly up my arm, coming to rest against the curve of my elbow. Nope, most definitely wasn't expecting this. Should I relish in the fact that the hair on the back of my neck just stood up in the most pleasant way possible, and hold out on my misgivings to see just how far this goes? Or should I regain control of my inner bastard and stop whatever the hell this is before it gets any more out of my control?

I decide to attempt control, putting as much sarcasm as possible into my voice. "Care to share your theory?" Though apparently sarcasm wasn't the right tone to use, or maybe it was, seeing the reaction my words received.

"Do you really want to know?" Her voice is delightfully breathy, as her free hand mimics the path followed by her other hand earlier. I look down trying to avoid the eye contact that started this whole situation, searching desperately for the floor. My search is in vain. The floor appears to have been replaced by a pair of functional brown shoes, and they certainly aren't mine. Shoes, which are no longer visible as she moves forward even more closing the gap between us.

I should have answered the question, the first time she asked. But no I had to be stubborn, and now my own stupidity is dragging out what has turned out to be a very dangerous situation. I abandon trying to look at the floor in favour of staring at the ceiling, though even this unobstructed view doesn't last long as strong yet soft hands on my jaw force me to look at her.

"Tell me what you were thinking about." Her tone is one that I have heard rarely, one that I haven't in fact heard since our first meeting on Air Force One. I want to yell at her and say that she is pretentious, and that she has no idea what my hidden feelings might hold. But I can tell just by looking at her, by feeling her touch against my skin that she really does know.

None of this though is any reason for me to give in to her interrogation, I see my way out, my way to regain control, and right now I don't care that we could get caught, in a compromising position. We were already in one once today, what is one more? It is this though that causes my arms to move to grasp her hips, and my head to lower, pressing my lips to hers, which are every bit as smooth and soft as I had earlier imagined.

I sigh into her mouth as I feel her hands sliding over my ears to mesh into my short hair, a sigh that turns into a groan as her tongue traces the outline of my lower lip. As I part my lips to allow her entrance I realize that this is it, the point of no return. This one kiss will never be enough, I could kiss her every moment of every day for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough. That thought alone scares the hell out of me.

As my vision starts to tunnel from lack of oxygen I break the seal that for the moment is my only reason for living. The twinkle is back in my eyes as I look down at her face, her lips still parted and ever so slightly swollen. "For the past little while I have been thinking about doing that to you. Is that a good enough answer?"

"Well, I don't know. I might have to have another sample in order to fully test my theory." The smile that now lights up her face is enough for me to pull her back to me, lifting her up just enough so that I can push her back against the way before setting her back on her feet.

"Well we will just have to fix that now won't we." I say my voice dead serious as I move to do just that, loving every moment. I know that someday, most likely tomorrow my actions are going to catch up with me, and when they do, I'll be ready. Hopefully I will have one Special Agent Kate Todd with me to watch my back, though if recent actions are any indication I don't think I will be free of her anytime soon.