This morning, driving into work, I ponder my night alone and realise that I really don't miss Beth and this bothers me. I then realise that I've never really missed any of the girls I've broken up with – heck, they all came with sell-by dates and I was happy to move on from one to another. I realise that this new-found depth, if you could call it that, didn't change the fact that I didn't enjoy being alone. I just wanted a different kind of girl from before. I think back to last night and smile as I remember, yeah, what I really want is a Ferrari, or a Jag…
By now, I'm at work. At least here I have other things to think about. So we're in the meeting room and the whole team is sitting around the table waiting for me to start but I am blank. Not only can I not think of how to proceed with the Citizen case, but I am acutely aware of Hart leafing through some brochure while leaning on a desk and, for some reason, her presence disturbs me, which I find odd, as usually I find it reassuring just knowing she's there, that she'll rescue me – even from myself. Sure enough, she does just that by putting forward some fantastic ideas. For a brief moment I wonder what Hart would say if I told her that I'd finished with Beth, or rather, with all the Beths of this world once and for all. I decide against telling her. She probably wouldn't believe me anyway. I'm not sure I believe it myself. I remember that we'll be spending the next few days at the Miss United States pageant and wonder if I should put off the search for a Ferrari (why, oh why can't get that analogy out of my head?) – until we return from the pageant… I'm distracted from my thoughts as Hart I hear Hart suggesting that we put an agent undercover at the pageant – a suggestion she'd come to regret later. The meeting moves to another room so that we can run through the database of agents to find one to go undercover.
I realise that I've seen an around the building who'd be perfect for the role and, without thinking, I volunteer her for the job. Even as I say it, I realise that despite all my thinking last night, I still have the same instincts as ever – and I feel even more of a prat when Hart points out that the agent in question is on maternity leave. After this, things get worse when McDonald arrives in time to see the picture of him in a swimsuit and Gracie, who should be doing paperwork. Then the lab technician gives me my lucky break, by superimposing the swimsuit on Hart's picture. Who knew she had such a great body? I remember training with her sometimes, so I knew she was fit, but although the guys had sometimes talked about her body, no-one had ever had the nerve to ask her out. In fact, now I thought about it, she looked her best during training, when she was taking out whatever frustrations she had with work , or life in general, on the punching bag, or me. Besides, she never really seemed to want anyone. If there was one thing I'd always envied about Gracie Hart, it was that attitude and the fact that she never seemed to need anything or anyone, except in those little moments like after Grant got shot when I sometime felt that she really did NEED me as a friend, to remind her that everything was ok, or at least, that it would be.
Hart is not amused by the technician's handiwork, and storms off after advising us to save the picture. I do as she says – hey, I always like to follow the rules, whenever possible, and if she wants the picture saved, then I'll save it – no personal interest whatsoever, understand? I smile, as I pocket the disc. I have every intention of seeing Gracie Hart in a swimsuit again, but next time, hopefully it'll be in real life – just as long as I can convince her to go undercover…