"I did some research," said Rose offhandedly, hefting an especially heavy case back onto its proper shelf.

"Did you, now?" Her colleague sounded impressed. "What on?"

"You," she replied.

"Me?"

"Unh-huh," she nodded, an unnecessary movement, in retrospect, as they were speaking through a bookshelf and could not thus see each other.

"Should I be flattered or worried?" He seemed to have already chosen the former, judging by the smile in his voice, Rose mused.

"That depends on whether I decide to be envious or suspicious," she answered. "Your personnel file is fascinating, by the way. Not surprised Price thought you'd cheated your way in; no one's ever made full agent without at least a full year of internship under their belt, but you managed it after four months. Exactly how is that possible?"

"An intriguing question indeed," Davies remarked. "How'd you manage to see my personnel file, anyway?"

"Think you're the only person on Earth who can hack?" Rose asked. "I've got connections. Found out your first name, too, Sterling."

"Well done," he said approvingly.

"That's beside the point though; back to these speedy promotions of yours. You made it here in nine months. An eternity, compared to your internship, sure, but still, that's unheard of. Hell, I was a Field Agent for a year before I got called up, and that was considered a hurried promotion."

"You're right," he admitted, "but you're forgetting something: Field operates differently than Tech Recon. They can afford to have standards in Field Research because it's a way to separate the real agents from the hundreds of blockheads who apply. After all, how hard is it to lumber in and shoot at little green men?"

"That's not true, and you know it," Rose interjected.

"Sure, I do, but they don't," Sterling continued. "So there are regulations and long periods of time in boring departments to see who should really be here. Tech Recon has no such luxury; we're a dying breed, what with all these other government institutions recruiting us as code-breakers and code-makers and what have you, so promotions are quick for those they want in command."

"But you've been offered command four times now," said Rose.

"Five, actually," he corrected. "There was another one this morning."

"Five, then. If they're so desperate, why've you spent so long here?"

"I don't like being manipulated into a position of power," he replied. "If I'm taking it on, it'll be because I want to, not because they need me to. Plus, I like it here."

"Ah, yes," Rose sighed. "The Blue Room."

"You won't be using that dismal tone once you've been in it," he said.

"I get the distinct feeling you're waggling a finger at me," Rose commented.

"And if I am?"

"Then there's more than a passing resemblance to my mother present," she responded primly.

"Really, now?" He finally pushed aside a box so that they could see each other properly. "And is this a better or worse resemblance than to that 'someone' from last week?"

Rose didn't respond, at least not verbally, but her entire body tensed, and she suddenly became very intent on finishing the serial number she was copying.

"Oh dear," Sterling made a pained face. "There I go, bringing him into the conversation again and mucking things up quite completely. You'd think I'd have learned the first time, but clearly I'm thicker than I look."

"It's fine," she stopped him. "Not that big a deal, really."

"He's a bastard."

"What?" Rose looked at Sterling again, a look of confusion on her face.

"Total bastard," Sterling repeated.

"You've never even met him," she protested.

"Don't need to," he replied. "All I know is he did something to make you feel bad when you needn't have, and that makes him a bastard."

"It wasn't his fault," she said softly, remembering a cold day on a beach years before. "Not really, anyway. It was just… the situation. We couldn't be together anymore, as much as either of us may have fought it."

"I see," Sterling looked thoughtful. "Still a bastard, though."

"Why now?"

"Because he gave up," the young man stated quite plainly. "If he was worth half of what you seem to think he was, he'd never stop fighting, never stop trying to find a way to fix things." Sterling looked up at her through his hair with soft, truthful eyes, and an expression that somehow made him look both very young and very old. "It wouldn't matter how hopeless things might actually be, because he'd see that you're a girl worth that effort, even if it never panned out, just because you're you."

Rose stared at him for a minute, unsure if she were going to smile or cry. "Why?" She finally managed to choke out.

Instantly, that warm, tender gaze was gone, replaced by the endearingly cocky grin he always wore. "No 'why' to the truth, Tyler," he said. "And besides, if I remind you of him, he's got to be a fool." Rose smiled distantly, consciously neither affirming nor denying the statement.

"Hey," he said after a moment, peering back through the opening. "Want to give it a go tonight?"

"Give what a go?"

"The Blue Room. You might not think it's much now, but believe me, there are things in there you won't find anywhere else in the universe."

"Anywhere, you say?" She looked back up at him with a tentative smile.

"Anywhere," he nodded. The twinkle in his eye and quirk in his eyebrow were both entrancing and unnerving; she stared at him a while before looking back down with a gentle shake of the head.

"Sorry," she said. "I… can't."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll leave you alone, then. But first, what's your name?"

"That's not important," she said, attempting to evade his gaze.

"Oh, come on," he wheedled. "You can't be called 'Agent Tyler' all the time, and hell, you know mine." He made a slight whine in the back of his throat. "Out with it; consider the shared knowledge a seal on our newfound friendship." She stared at him a moment, considering her options, before responding in a smiling, though hesitant voice:

"It's Rose. My name's Rose."

"Nice to meet you, Rose," Sterling said with a smile.