Don Eppes sat at his desk quietly, his mind caught in his own little world. His partner, Agent Terry Lake, watched him from her desk with interest. Her mind flashed back to their earlier conversation about his social and personal life.
"I think anyone who ran into you on the street would assume you were taken," she had remarked. Don did nothing but scoff at her observation.
"Whatever, Terry. If you really want to know, I am taken," he had replied. David Sinclair, their other team member, had walked in as he said that. David's attention was captured quickly.
"You've got a girlfriend?" he asked. Don shrugged.
"We've never referred to each other as such, but I guess you could say that." Terry looked at him blankly.
"How could you date someone and not know if they were your significant other?" she asked. Don pinched the bridge of his nose. It was his common sign of frustration.
"I don't know, we never talked about it like that," he said with a slight edge forming on his voice. Terry gave David a warning look and dropped the subject. After that, Don had retreated to his desk, lost in a long train of thought.
Terry got up from her desk and sat on the edge of Don's desk. Don looked up at her with curiosity. "What is it Terry?" he asked. Terry folded her arms across her chest.
"You know how the director is holding a party tomorrow night to celebrate his birthday?" she asked. Don nodded, not understanding what this information had to do with him now. Terry shrugged. "Well, seeing as many of us are expected to show up, I though you could bring her with you." Terry's emphasis on her told Don that she meant his unofficial girlfriend. Don sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"I'll think about it," replied Don with a little more confidence than he truly had. Terry gave him a small smile.
"That's all I ask. Besides, I want to be able to tell her some of your bad habits before she fully commits." With that, Terry went back to her desk and began reading some files that she had left untouched. Don sighed and got up. He had told his father that he was going to be home in time for dinner.
When he arrived at his father's house, Don noticed that there was another car parked in front of the house. He recognized it but didn't expect to find it there. He entered his childhood home and saw his family sitting in the living room. With them was Mira, his girlfriend.
"Hey, Donny! You made it home!" Alan, his father, exclaimed. Charlie, his younger brother, looked up from his laptop and gave a grin. Mira stood up and crossed the room. She paused in front of him and kissed his cheek lovingly.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked quietly in his ear. Don looked at her.
"You don't have to get anything, I'll do it," he protested. Mira shook her head slowly.
"I was getting up anyway, hon. What'll you have?" she repeated. Don shrugged.
"A beer would be great," he replied. Mira gave him another kiss.
"Water it is!" she said cheerfully while escaping to the kitchen. She hated his beer-drinking inclination; it made his breath smell rather pungent. Don sat down in a chair and loosened his tie.
"We won't make it to dinner tomorrow night," he announced to his brother and father. Mira re-entered the room carrying two water bottles. She handed one to Don and sat opposite of him. She placed her elbow on the arm of the chair and touched her chin faintly with her fingers. She looked at Don admiringly, a small smile playing on her rosy lips. Don returned her gaze with an equally charmed look. Alan and Charlie glanced back and forth at the two lovers, an uncomfortable silence falling for a brief moment.
"Why won't you make it to dinner, Don?" Charlie asked. Don snapped out of his reverie and looked at Charlie.
"The director is having a birthday celebration and I intended on going," he replied, throwing a pointed glance towards Mira. She knew what he meant and tilted her head in her thoughtful manner.
"Formal or casual?" she asked. Don shrugged.
"Semi-formal, I suppose." Mira smiled reassuringly when she noticed his anxious gaze.
"I'll be ready by five," she said. Don relaxed.
"I'll pick you up then." The quartet sat for a few more moments in a tranquil silence then Alan stood.
"Well, I think it's time to get dinner on the table, Charlie. Let's go," he said pointedly, gesturing towards the kitchen. Charlie assented and stood.
"Do you need any help?" Mira asked, preparing to stand. Alan waved her down.
"No, no, no. You two stay here and relax, we'll take care of everything," he said firmly. Mira smiled.
"Okay, if you say so," she said, leaning back into the couch. Alan smiled briefly then entered the kitchen. Don continued to look at Mira steadily as she stood up anyway and sat on the arm of Don's chair. Don placed his hand on her knee and squeezed it gently.
"You look stressed," she said plainly, her hand stroking his hair. Don sighed. Being stressed was the least of his problems; he could handle stress. He could handle chaos, no sleep, and multitudes of other dilemmas, but he simply couldn't handle this tiny conflict of opinions. He stared absentmindedly out the window.
"It's that party," he said blankly. Mira looked down at him with surprise.
"That's what's bothering you?" she asked. Don shook his head. "Really, hon, I'd think you'd waste your time worrying over something a little less trivial."
"I know," he replied with exasperation. "And I am. It's not the party itself that is bothering me; it's how I was introduced to the idea." Mira stood up and crouched in front of his, taking his hands into hers.
"Explain that to me." Don looked at her. She had done her hair differently that day; instead of some form of curls, either natural or curler induced, her hair was straight. Her thick-rimmed glasses held most of it out of her face, unveiling her jade green eyes. Sometimes Don found it hard to believe she was nearly pure Italian. He had never seen an Italian native with chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She apparently got out of class early enough to change out of her typical outfit, merely because she was wearing a cotton, off-the-shoulder, ¾ sleeved shirt that was a calming shade of blue and a pair of tan, cargo pants.
"It was my partner, Terry, who suggested that I go after we had talked about my marital status. She also said to bring you along so everyone could meet you," he explained. Mira looked at him with a confused air.
"That's what's bothering you?" Don shook his head slightly.
"Hardly, Mira. Remember when we first met, you wanted to take things at a slower pace? When Terry asked me if I had a girlfriend, I couldn't tell them because I didn't know whether you wanted to be referred to as my girlfriend yet. So if I took you to this party, I don't know how to introduce you," he replied. Mira gave a small smile. She grasped his hands and forced him up. She gently led him onto the front porch and paused after she closed the door quietly behind them.
"Listen, Don. Don't worry about how to introduce me; I'll do it myself. Just keep your thoughts focused on things other than your director's birthday party," she said frankly. Don nodded, still not sure why he was outside.
"Why are we out here?" he asked her. Mira shrugged.
"Simple, it was getting too serious inside and the evening air is rather refreshing." Don smiled. "You know what'd be horrible?" she asked suddenly.
"What?" he asked her in return. Mira nodded in the direction of an oncoming car.
"If that slowing car was Larry coming to crash an intimate dinner," she replied. Sure enough, the car parked on the curb and Larry Fleinhardt appeared, walking briskly to the front door.