Thing.

Fin's POV-

No one could put a name on what they had. It defied all natural logic.

It was bright for a Monday morning. Almost too bright. She had come bouncing in. We all caught the look of appreciation he had sent her outfit's way. Her being in general.

She had smiled warmly at his leer towards her work 'accessories.' "Here." She stated, as she thrusted a donut into his face, along with a cup of coffee.

I wasn't here, with the department, when the boss had first introduced them. But the people I ask say I missed a beautiful thing. They smiled the whole day. They smiled more when I first got here. Now, none of us can smile without grimacing. But it's still a beautiful thing to watch the two of them together.

"Thanks." He'd replied. A warm smile overtook his face real quick.

"Yeah. Anything new?" She'd asked, taking a bite of her own donut.

"Everything's out there. Take your pick." One of our slightly older colleagues responded. And by older, I mean damn old. Don't get me wrong, I love my partner to death, but the bickering and jabbering is much more fun.

I've watched, silently, as this thing they has became stronger. Some people say it grew when her first stalker decided to come out. Others say different. When her mother died, they seemed to be closer than they were before. Everyday, it got easier to see. With every little thing, it was always there.

"Funny. But seriously, anything this morning?"

"Nope." I'd stated.

"Nadda." Our older colleague added.

"Zip." He'd finished, just a little softer.

"Cute." She'd replied, just as softly, never breaking the heated stare she had held with him.

This thing they had, we used it a lot on the job. For certain operations. Most went off without a hitch. It held strong through so many things. Nothing was ever pleasurable. But things were personal. On so many levels.

The boss chose that moment to come briskly walking out of his office, to stand between everyone's desks. Turning to the one that belonged to them, he cleared his throat. Noticing that it would take a little more than that to break the tension, he spoke.

"If I ever catch these two," he pointed to me and my old partner, "I'll resign my pension."

That seemed to work, for they both looked away and towards him hastily. Each having the decency to look, at least, slightly, embarrassed.

We all wish we have something like they did. And we know we never will, because that is rare. Unique. Nearly non-existent. It was so strong, that thing that they had, we know they still have that tie, where ever they are.