This is for the wonderful Cat who has been so patient while waiting for an update to her story! I think my muse has finally returned, which makes me extra-happy, now that I can write again! *claps* Hopefully, I won't have another week like last week, cause that was ridiculous! Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. I really like it! It's not beta'd because I really wanted to get it up tonight. All mistakes are my own!

Thanks to: SHOPPING-LUVA, FAMOUS4IT, TROMANA, LISBON69, BOUTONDOR, YABA, PHOENIXMAGIC2, LILSMILES, MJ2387, and FROGSTER for reviewing the last chapter!

Chapter Four

Her fingers shook as she slid the silver earring into her right lobe. She grimaced as she fought with the backing, before finally lowering her hands in success. The dangling metal brushed against her cheek as she finished pulling her hair back into a ponytail, her curls cascading down. Mascara rimmed eyes stared back at her, and she was rather pleased with her appearance. It had been a long time since she had a reason to dress up. She wiped her hands against the dark denim of her jeans and carefully slipped her feet into her favorite pair of red heels. She grabbed her leather jacket, and quickly made her way downstairs.

Throwing her jacket on the couch, she nervously fidgeted with the fringe on the blanket draped over the arm. She forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. It was only Sam. They had been friends for years. There was no reason to get all worked up over one dinner that didn't even have to mean anything. Rolling her eyes upwards, she blew a strand of hair out of her face and headed into the kitchen. Grabbing an unopened bottle of red wine-it had been a birthday present- she poured herself a small glass and enjoyed the tart flavors rolling around her tongue.

She jumped when the faint tones of the doorbell echoed through her house. She felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, she mused with a wry grin as she set the almost full wine glass on the counter. Her heels echoed on the linoleum floor as she headed towards the door, and she took another deep breath before pulling the door open. She was quickly greeted by a face-full of sunflowers and she chuckled as Sam Bosco practically peaked at her from behind them. Somehow, the fact that they were equally nervous made her feel much better about the whole situation.

"Hey," he spoke softly as he smiled at her.

"Hey yourself," she responded as she grinned back. "You want to come in for a minute?"

He followed her inside, their bodies brushing as she reached past him to close the door. They stood frozen in the entryway for a few seconds, before he remembered to hand her the flowers. She burst into laughter at the grimace he made- he never failed to make her laugh with his various expressions. He shrugged out of his sport coat and laid it beside hers on the couch. He always had cleaned up nicely, she thought as she eyed his outfit. She had a flash of an old memory and smiled as she noticed the polo shirt.

"What?" he asked, his eyes sparkling.

"I see you're still fond of the polos," she retorted. He chuckled and shrugged.

"Why ruin a good thing?" he replied with a quirky smile.

She rolled her eyes and disappeared into the kitchen, the sunflowers happily bouncing in her grasp. He shook his head as he heard various clunks of pots and pans, cabinets slamming, and other unknown sounds and knew she was searching for a vase. Following her into the room, he leaned against the doorway and watched as she trimmed the bottom of the stems before situating the arrangement in a crystal vase. She looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow as she caught him staring at the wine.

"Glasses are in the cabinet above you. Help yourself," she said with a smirk as he reached for a glass.

Sunflowers had always been her favorite flower, and she was touched that he remembered that little known fact. They were just so happy and cheery, and always seemed to lighten a dark mood or room. In addition, the fact that it was almost impossible to find the flower this time of year almost made her blush with the effort he had put into it. Once the flowers were nestled in the vase, she took another sip from her glass, and stared at Bosco expectantly.

"You're taller," he mentioned.

"Heels will do that," she retorted sarcastically.

"You always did love to dress up," he mused and she smiled wistfully.

"Yeah, too bad it's not practical for sprinting after criminals…"

"I don't know. Wearing that, I think anyone would stop for you," he replied with a grin. She snorted, and smacked his arm.

"Come on, joker. Knowing you, you've made reservations somewhere that we're now in danger of missing."

He gently placed his hand on the small of her back as they headed towards the living room. Jackets were donned, and they quickly exited her house. Knowing she'd never let him hear the end of it, he let her open her own door although he did hover nearby in what he hoped appeared to be a more modern chivalrous gesture. She fiddled with the radio as he buckled up and started the truck engine. He always had been one of the few people she trusted to drive her around. She was relieved when they fell into a comfortable conversation, discussing current cases and the latest stunt pulled by Narcotics who thought it would be fun to play an impromptu game of freeze tag last week.

They pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant, and she couldn't stop the grin from forming as she saw the sign for the family-owned barbeque place. She hadn't been here in years, but she remembered they served the best pork sandwiches she had ever eaten. It was a little out of the way, and to be honest, she had forgotten about the little restaurant once Red John took over. It was a comfortable restaurant where everyone was treated like family, and for some strange reason it was never too busy. Hopping down from her seat, she stuffed her hands in her jacket pocket and waited for Sam to lock the car.

"I hope you don't mind," he trailed off as she bumped her hip into him.

"This is perfect," she answered as he held the door open for her. Once they were seated, she flipped through the menu to see if anything had changed. Satisfied with her sandwich selection, she started to tap her fingers on the vinyl cushion, unsure of how to proceed.

"How much longer are you on medical leave?" she blurted out before realizing it was a subject Sam Bosco probably wanted to avoid.

"I have another week of physical therapy, and then an evaluation to determine if I'm fit for desk duty," he replied with a reassuring smile.

"Are you planning to go back in the field?" she asked hesitantly. She knew whatever decision he made, the events of that fateful day would continue to haunt the man in front of her. He sighed and studied her.

"No. I'm looking at more of an administrative position with a nearby office. It's more supervision and paperwork, but I'll still have a hand in the research side of the investigation. Supposedly, my opinion will still matter," he truthfully answered while sporting a wry grin.

"Never thought I'd see the day when you'd volunteer to fly a desk," she teased good-naturedly. He rolled his eyes, and the moment was soon interrupted by the arrival of their food.

"How's your sandwich?" he asked, and she offered him a bite with a grin.

Their conversation had lightened and she realized how much she enjoyed being in his company. She was about to steal one of his fries, when the shrill sound of her phone ripped through the pleasant atmosphere. Frowning, she glanced at the display. She wasn't on-call tonight.

"Lisbon... What the hell have you done this time? Right…..Give the phone to Cho. …Hey, how bad's the damage?…No, I'll be right there." She hung up with a heavy sigh, and shot Bosco and her half-full plate an apologetic look.

"It's okay," he said softly. "Do you want me to-"

"I'll call a cab," she interrupted. "You finish your dinner." Standing up, she grabbed her purse and slipped back into her jacket. Walking to the other side of the booth, she leaned down and pressed her lips lightly against his cheek.

"I had a good time tonight, Sam," she said. "Maybe we could try again this weekend?" He covered her hand with his own, and gave it a light squeeze.

"You know where to find me," he answered. "Now, get out of here. They need you."

He watched as she gracefully wove through the tables before slipping out the door. Picking at his fries, he waved off the concerned look of the waitress and asked for a to-go box, somber thoughts weighing heavily on his mind. He had seen the look in her eye as she recognized the name on the display. When the waitress returned, he apologized for changing his mind and instead ordered the largest slice of pie available. Scraping his fork against the plate, he wondered if he even had a chance. His last words echoed in his head.

They need you.

He needs you.