Sorry this took so long...

Tapping her fingers and chewing on a pencil, Jessica was deep in thought. She stared at the yellow notepad on her desk, the thin grey lines that crossed it blurring as her eyes lost their focus. Picking up the white, porcelain cup to her left she took a long sip of tea. Tea helped her think.

These thoughts had consumed her ever since she overheard her editor and fellow reporter talking last night. She had spent the past 12 hours trying to think of a way to convince Nick Miller to let her work on the story of the missing girls. The gut feeling that this was the story that would kick start her career had only grown as the hours passed by.

Pulling off her glasses, she put them down and rubbed her eyes. It was only 9 am but she had already been at her desk for over an hour. She was hoping to catch him as he arrived this morning, try and sweet talk him into letting her work with him. Around her the room was beginning to fill with her fellow reporters. Every time she heard footsteps approaching, she straightened up in her seat, holding her breath until she saw it wasn't him, then deflating a little into herself, waiting.

Wincing, she scrunched up her face and began to regret her earlier attitude towards him. Sure, she still thought he was a jerk - but if she had learned one thing in journalism it was never to burn bridges. And today she really hoped she hadn't burned this one. Sadie told her all the time that she was far too harsh when it came to the opposite sex. But that was how Jessica Day looked after herself-if no man ever got within six feet of her, how could they ever hurt her again?

Slowly she relaxed a little; it turned out the early appearance of Nick Miller the day before had been a fluke. She pulled the cover from her Royal and picked up a stack of notes - if anyone else was this late...

Finally, he arrived - sauntering in at quarter after eleven. She watched as he leisurely slipped off his coat and placed it, and his black fedora, on the hat stand that was halfway in between their desks. His face looked tired and his suit wasn't quite as sharp as she had become accustomed to. Still, she found herself eyeing up the grey three piece as he emptied his briefcase. His back was to her, the material strained over his thighs as he reached across the desk. Oh… Jessica, stop it! She chastised herself quickly. Don't let him get to you.

She shifted in her seat and smoothed her hair back with her hands. Next, she pulled a tube of ruby lipstick from her top drawer and hastily ran a thin layer over her lips – quickly running her tongue over her teeth to remove any residue. So far, she had figured he thought himself as a bit of a ladies man. In that case she had decided to try and appeal to his male sensibilities. Time to turn on the charm.

"Hello Nicholas," she smiled as she sidled up to him clutching her notepad.

He leaned back in his seat, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "Oh, so it's Nicholas now is it?"

Smiling, Jessica placed one hand on his desk and leaned forward, giving him her best throaty laugh, "Oh Nicholas, I think we got off to a bad start yesterday."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look of disbelief. She felt her confidence begin to seep out into a puddle at her feet. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…

"Really?" he asked, folding his arms nonchalantly as she continued to talk.

"Of course. I mean, since we are going to be neighbors we should really try and get along."

"As far as I can remember, Miss Day, yesterday you called me a jerk and pretty much said that me talking to you was wasting your time. So," he moved his hands so they were clasped in front of him and leaned closer, "You can excuse my confusion."

Pausing, she kept a tense smile on her face as she wracked her brain, damn you and your big mouth, Jessica!

As she thought, his scent began to fill the gap between them, distracting her - it was starting to become familiar: that heady mixture of cologne with a hit of bourbon laced on top. It was strangely intoxicating. She cleared her throat, "Um, well, you see…" she fumbled for the words as he watched her with an intense gaze – his eyes burning darkly, boring into her with a glint of amusement hidden within. He seemed to be getting some kind of enjoyment out of her awkwardness. Damn him.

She was only saved when the harsh East coast tones of their editor's voice rang out across the room.

"Miller – my office, now!"

"On my way!" Nick replied, calling out to Schmidt's office across the room, "Well, it's been a pleasure as always. Perhaps we can continue this later, Miss Day?"

Giving her no chance to reply, he swiftly picked himself up and sauntered across the office, one hand in his pocket. She watched him go.

The bright morning light from the windows behind cast his outline in a dark shadow – wavy hair, broad shoulders, well cut pants. She caught herself again – stop Jessica. His effect on her was annoying. But it made sense – that was his only trick: ladies man, smooth operator. Every reporter had an angle and that was his. And she wasn't going to fall for that.

She had paced back and forth impatiently outside of Schmidt's office for nearly 25 minutes. Nadia had given her some odd looks, asking if she needed 'to bathroom'. In reply Jessica had insisted she needed to speak to 'the boss', but could wait until his meeting was over.

Beyond the beveled glass walls of the office, she could hear an intense discussion taking place. Tiptoeing closer to the wooden door, she placed her ear near the gap between it and the door frame-

"Miller, you can't just go in there with your usual approach-this is a big story. We need to plan. We need an 'in.'" She heard Schmidt sigh heavily.

"Schmidt – why do I need to change my game now? You know me, I get in with the hoodlums, the nightlife, get my story and – bam!"

"I don't know Miller, this is different. Most of your stories involve deadbeat criminals, petty theft, racketeering. We just need to think…"

Taking this as her cue, Jessica rapped quickly on the glass panel of the door.

"In a meeting!" Schmidt's high pitched voice sliced easily through walls of the office.

"Um, sir it's important," she replied, heart pounding, knees feeling weak with nerves.

"You have sixty seconds," came the sharp reply.

Quickly, she turned the round brass handle of the door and burst into the small, hot office. Schmidt sat at his desk – his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his considerable girth struggling to be restrained by his button down and suspenders. Her eyes darted to her left where she saw Nick Miller leaning lazily against the wall next to an open window – one leg casually tucked behind the other.

"Who are you?" Schmidt asked.

"That's Day," Nick answered distractedly, pushing himself away from the wall, "Works the community pages." She watched him furrow his brow before running his fingers across it, then down his face.

"Oh," Schmidt nodded, looking up and giving her a sharp stare. "You now have 45 seconds."

Jessica wrung her hands together in front of her and looked anxiously from man to man, "I have your 'in,'" she said triumphantly.

Both men looked at her blankly.

The room seemed to become boiling hot, as she felt a flush rise up her chest and neck. "The girls, the missing ones, I know how you can get the story."

Nick narrowed his eyes at her, "Were you listening-"

"Yes," she admitted, looking across at him, "And we can talk about that later, but, please listen to me now. What you need is a girl."

Schmidt sat up in his chair, his brow wrinkled in concentration, as Nick rolled his eyes and walked over to the desk.

"Young girls, going missing? You need a decoy. You need a girl who can go undercover, get your story."

Nodding slowly, Schmidt pushed himself up from his chair, his breath heaving with the effort, "Yes, I like it," he began to shake his index finger at no one in particular, "A girl, she can play the part, get the inside scoop. Well done, um-"

"Day, Jessica Day." Jessica smiled triumphantly and stepped forward, her hand outstretched.

Ignoring the offered hand, he continued, "Thank,s Miss Day, so if that's all…"

Jessica hesitantly took a step further into the office, "Wait – sir, I'd like to volunteer. You know, for the assignment."

"You?" scoffed Nick, "No," he shook his head, laughing, moving to perch on the edge of the editor's oversized desk.

"Yes me," she insisted, placing her hands on her hips, "I'm young enough-"

"-Just," chipped in Nick and she gave him a scowl.

"And I'm not known on the nightlife scene – most of the other girls in the office are- plus I'm a trained journalist so I'll know what notes to take and the questions to ask and-"

"Fine," Schmidt said with a shake of his hand, "Miller, meet your new partner."

Jessica balled her fists and silently whispered, 'yes', before composing herself and returning her hands to her hips.

"But Schmidt, you know I work best alone-"

"Miller, you're lucky I am letting you pursue this story in the first place. You need an 'in,' and it's her." He pointed a finger at Jessica before turning to Nick, "You have one week to bring me something good. That's seven days, if you can't count." He sank back in his chair which groaned heavily under his weight, "Now, you two scram, I have a call to make."

"But-" Nick began to protest.

"I said scram!" Schmidt cried as he picked up the glossy black receiver.

Quickly Jessica retreated from the office, followed closely by Nick. The door clicked closed behind them and they stood face to face, mere inches apart.

He began to tut softly before he bit his bottom lip, "And now it all makes sense."

"What?" she replied defensively.

"The act? Earlier? I knew you wanted something. I saw right through it." He slipped his hands back into his pockets as his eyes narrowed once more. She hated it when he looked at her like that.

"Ha," Jessica tossed her head back in amusement, "Fine, I was trying to butter you up. I still think you're a jerk. But I would work with the biggest jerk in California, if it meant getting a place on the news desk."

"Ahh, the penny drops. You were trying to use me."

She shrugged, "I'm a career girl. Anyway, isn't that your whole approach? Using people? Maybe the tables need to turn sometimes, Miller."

"So it seems they have," he rolled his eyes, "Come on Day, if we're going to work together I'd better get you up to speed."

"What?" she replied in disbelief, "No jokes, no sexist remarks?"

He looked at her pointedly, "I can be a gentleman sometimes," he said softly.

She stared at him for a moment. Although the newsroom was filled with the sound of chatter and the clack of typewriter keys, everything seemed to become quiet. He looked sad. His eyes had lost their teasing sparkle, his face was blank –devoid of the usual taunting expressions. A moment passed like this, just looking at each other before she shook her head and spoke.

"Okay, lead the way."

"So this is all you have?" she asked as they huddled over the small selection of police reports and photographs that were strewn across Nick's desk.

"Uh-huh," he sighed and began to remove his cufflinks and roll up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing deeply tanned forearms, "These are the girls who have disappeared in the past three months – twelve in total. The only connection I can see is that there were all seen at Clyde's in the few nights before they disappeared."

"Clyde's?" Jessica asked quizzically.

He looked at her in wonder, "You really don't go out, do you? Clyde's is only the hottest new club in LA. Opened six months ago. The owner is some tycoon from Chicago, 'Big Bob'. He's hardly ever seen. But this guy," he pushed a picture of a tall man surrounded by a gaggle of bleach blondes across the desk, "This is Coach, the manager, he's the one we need to talk to."

"Okay," she nodded, "So we go to Clyde's, I get talking to Coach, bam, we're in."

Nick began to chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked up at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Look, lady, you need to understand. The girls this guy goes for, they're, you know, the glamorous kind… and you, well, you know…"

"Are you trying to say I am not attractive enough?" Her eyes bugged out as she spoke, her chest beginning to heave with indignation.

"No… I mean, I just-"

"No, you are trying to say I can't pull this off. I'm too stiff and uptight? Just because I don't wiggle around in tight blouses and four inch heels all day does not mean I'm not an attractive woman!"

He raised his hands, "That's not what I said-"

"It's what you implied!" Sulking a little she raised herself to full height and pointed her nose in the air. "Mr. Miller, you worry about your contacts and let me worry about Coach. Let's start tonight. Pick me up at eight pm."

Before he had the chance to reply, she picked her coat up from her desk, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Mason's department store was busy for a Friday afternoon. Jessica fought her way through the thronging crowds, holding on tightly to her purse as she pushed past smartly dressed men and women, full racks of dresses and glass cases of baubles and purses.

"Sadie!" she cried when she saw her friend, "Sadie!" She waved her hand until she caught her attention, Sadie broke into a large smile beckoning her closer.

"Oh my Jessie, this is a surprise! You're normally chained to your desk at this time!"

"Well, this is an emergency. Sadie, I need your help. With this," she beckoned to her outfit, running her outstretched hand down her coat.

"Really?"

Jessica nodded. Sadie pulled her into a hug.

"I thought you'd never ask!" She turned away and looked at a tall redheaded girl who was stacking small boxes of gloves, "Veronica! We have an emergency! Clear the fitting room!"

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