Sargent David Gabriel sighed. The chief had left her cell at the office. And because he had been the one to notice it on the counter in the kitchenette when he had gone to put his mug in the dishwasher before leaving for the day, he was now stuck in traffic headed in the opposite direction of his home in order to take it to her.

He regretted only slightly not being able to call Agent Howard to tell her to come pick it up from the office herself, though he couldn't really mourn Fritz Howard's absence in the chief's life because the last year of their marriage had put a terrible strain on his boss. In fact, he was almost positive that the insecurity in her marriage and personal life had led her to clash so violently with Pope and Raydor and to react so insensibly to the lawsuit and transparency audits. Her interpersonal skills during that time were as bad as they had been when she had initially transferred to L.A., and it had worried him, because though he knew the chief would never win any prizes for her management style, they had a standard operating procedure that closed cases, and that S.O.P. had been severely affected by the collapse of the chief's marriage.

For a while even before they figured Fritz had left, the chief had been strangely quiet - contemplative, almost. In her relentlessly single-minded pursuit of her cases, she was the same, and in the interrogation room, she was the same chameleon personality that changed to whatever the situation dictated. But the combativeness that she usually employed to deal with brass and the Fed and politicians was nearly non-existent, as was the honey-dripped, southern drawl flirting. Her near silence had been unnerving.

Then one Monday morning, she breezed into the murder room with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye that hadn't been there in many a month. She looked happy. And she was a little different, after this happy Monday morning - more prone to consider the suggestions and viewpoints of others and more likely to explain her thought processes, both things that had made the office a much more congenial place, though sometimes Gabriel didn't know whether or not to be grateful to have a window into the mind of CIA trained interrogator. It could be a little scary.

He pulled up in front of the chief's apartment. It was dark and there were no cars in the drive. Gabriel resisted the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. He would give her ten minutes. The chief's cell phone chirped its cheery little text message noise (another recent addition to the chief's repertoire). Gabriel fished it out of his pocket. Maybe the text message could give him a little insight as to where the chief was.

From: Shari

Where are you, baby? Dinner's getting cold.

Gabriel's jaw dropped. He recognized the phone number. It was Sharon Raydor's. Raydor and the chief were...? Oh dear god. He had seen the antagonism decrease between them in the past few months, definitely. Now when they butted heads, it seemed more like a game they had both been anticipating, and there was always a great deal of eye contact between the two, even if they weren't verbally friendly. Now they were sharing a meal. And Raydor was calling the chief 'baby'. The phone chirped again.

From: Shari

And gorgeous girl, you'd better be ready for me tonight. This 3 day dry streak has me aching for you.

Now Gabriel needed some bleach for his brain. At least he knew where to take the phone, although the circumstances of the delivery could be a little awkward. The question was whether or not it was more awkward than the chief not getting a call if they got a body, or having to call Raydor to get ahold of the chief if they got a call out. He guessed he could always fake a call to Raydor on the pretense of looking for the chief. Ultimately, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the chief from knowing he knew something, so ripping the bandaid off was the best strategy.

He sighed. Raydor lived about ten minutes back towards his place. Gabriel turned the car back on and pulled back into traffic.

Raydor lived in a quaint little craftsman on a tree lined street not far from the LAPD headquarters. Gabriel parked in front of the house and headed up the walkway. The large picture windows on the front porch were lit up with warm yellow light. In the dining room window, Gabriel saw the chief's slender form lean into Raydor's curvier body. She tucked her head into the older woman's shoulder and Raydor wrapped her arms around her. They stayed like that a moment - Raydor's eyes dropped closed and a smiled lifted the corners of her mouth. They pulled apart a little and kissed. Gabriel gritted his teeth and rang the doorbell.

Raydor answered the door. She looked immaculate as always in a deep red jersey wrap dress. Her feet were bare and she had a wine glass in her hand.

"Detective Gabriel! This is a surprise. What can I do for you this evening?"

He didn't know what to say. He fished the phone out of his pocket and tried to hand it to her, widening his eyes a little. She smirked, biting her lip in amusement, but didn't take the phone.

"Brenda Leigh, darling," she called into the house. "Gabriel has brought you your phone." So this was how she was going to play it; her face looked like mischief. "Come on in, David. Brenda Leigh just went to change her clothes." Oh dear god.

"That's ok Captain, I mean Chief Raydor, I'll just head on home." Still holding the phone in front like some sort of offering to the gods of awkwardness, Gabriel tried not just turn and run, because holy shit this was awkward.

"No, I insist, David." She gestured past her into the house. He gritted his teeth and stepped in. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"No thank you, m'am." The chief flounced down the stairs then, in yoga pants and a soft tunic shirt. Her hair was pulled back and she looked impossibly young and very cheerful.

"David! Thank you so much for saving me the trip back to headquarters. Now I can have a glass of wine with dinner." She plucked the phone from his hand and checked for missed calls. Her cheeks flushed red but she grinned and her brown eyes sparkled. "Oh Shari, you're terrible. Just awful." She turned the grin on Gabriel and Gabriel fought off a cringe.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Gabriel shifted his weight towards the door. "It was no problem, chief. I'll just...see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Alright then, thank you again, David." She leaned into Raydor's side and the brunette slid an arm around her waist. Gabriel turned on his heel, opened the door himself and fled down the sidewalk. He could hear the chief's giggle follow him back to the car.