Girls get self-conscious when he goes down on them. Embarrassed, and he'll never understand that. Catherine doesn't know how to be self-conscious, she arches and purrs and slides her legs around his back. Her lack of underwear beneath the neat suit doesn't surprise him.

Later, she slides her arms around his neck and rolls her body against his, laughing softly. He's seen strippers do slightly less intimate versions of this, and he can't seem to care where she learned it. She's Catherine, it doesn't matter.

Warrick doesn't know how he'll forget those sharp little cries when she comes before work.