He watched her as she stirred her coffee, seemingly unaware of his gaze. She was a beautiful woman. Ten years his senior, she'd begun to let the natural hints of gray show in her black hair. She had her doubts about its effect, but he liked it. Not that he could comment to the negative given the amount of gray he'd been sporting.

She'd told him she liked his gray, said it made her feel less of the "cougar" stigmata that she knew accompanied their age difference. She tried to play it off as a joke, but on some level it did bother her. So much so that it was he who made the first move in their fledgling relationship.

Once he'd made that move, however, she willingly went along. She even joked with him about his being her "Boy Toy". In his opinion, ten years wasn't all that much and with the exception of one or two of her bitchier friends, no one else had even batted an eye.

"Take a picture," she finally said, raising her eyes to him. "It lasts longer."

With a grin, he held up his cell phone, "I have pictures."

She narrowed her eyes, "Remind me again why I let you take those?"

He laughed, "Let me? You posed for them."

"You got me drunk and took advantage of me," she said, extending her bare leg and resting her foot on his thigh.

He laughed again, "Like that could ever happen."

She raised a brow and gave him a pained look.

"I'm not frightened by the eyebrow, Doc," he returned, smile still in place. "Not when I know how to make you scream."

"Yeah, you do, don't you?"

"And don't you forget it," he said, massaging her foot.

"You're too good to be true…sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"No one's perfect," she winked, sipping her coffee while he worked the tension from her ankle. "Do you really have to work tonight?"

"I do."

"We really need to sync our shifts better."

"Who're you telling? Catching quickies between shifts sucks."

The brow went up again.

"What?" he laughed, "What's the brow for this time?"

"You're admitting that you want more than sex."

"Why is that such a surprise?" He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "I like spending time with you."

"In bed," she finished.

"And out. I don't think I ever dated some one who likes hockey and baseball like you do."

"The curse of being the only girl in the family," she shrugged. "And I'm glad you like spending time with me out of bed, too."

"But, in bed does have its good points…"

"Are you suggesting that you want to go back to bed?"

"Considering we won't have a chance to get back there until Thursday…"

She stood up, walked around the small kitchen table, straddled his lap and sat down, facing him. She kissed him deeply.

"You, Detective Flack, are insatiable."

"Only where you're concerned," he said, his lips still brushing hers. He kissed her, his hands sliding beneath the t-shirt she wore.

He'd recognized it as one of his, remembering that she'd worn it home from a night at his place and never returned it. He didn't mind that she'd kept it, actually he liked the quietly possessive way he felt when she wore it.

He kissed the side of her neck, working a lazy trail down to the collar of the shirt. "So what do you say, Doc? Wanna go back to bed?"

"You know I can't say no to you," she sighed.

"That's what I was counting on."