A/N So I like dialog more than action. Blame it on being in the process of writing a script. Enjoy it anyway.
Woody loved the little tie that binds that she had found. "You are wonderful, absolutely wonderful." He exclaimed, hugging her, his crutches banging awkwardly together and she laughed. She grinned.
"Got a thing for logic problems." She shrugged, attempting to look humble. It felt good to be praised for what she had noticed. First by Garret and now by Woody. She had to admit that Garret's praise had meant more to her than Woody's, but then again, Woody just wasn't her type. He was too lovable, too cuddly, to suburban. She liked the tall dark brooding type who tried to hide his heart. And that's exactly what Garret was.
Woody grinned, a charming, disarming grin. Maybe she was wrong about the young detective. Whoever caught him would be a lucky girl indeed, she couldn't deny the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous, with those blue eyes and the ruffled dark hair. He had a James Bond-esque quality to him, if he was an actor, and British, she'd suggest him to play the role.
She turned to Garret who was trying to find anything else between the murders that was similar. "You doing anything for dinner?" She asked him and he shook his head. "Care to show a girl around Beantown? Keep hearing about all these different places and I know absolutely nothing about where they are." He thought for a minute and she stood there grinning looking innocent.
"Yeah, sure." He finally agreed and got up to walk with her to the elevator. "Been a long day." He confessed as he stretched out his back.
She nodded in agreement. "So you've spent your whole life in Boston? Never lived anywhere else?" He shook his head.
"Longest I've been away was two months."
"Someplace nice I hope?" He shook his head.
"New Jersey." He admitted and she laughed.
"Furthest place from my mind for a vacation. What possessed you to GO to New Jersey? Most folks try to leave the state." He grinned. "What were you doing there?"
He shrugged. "Working." She laughed.
"Like I said, what were you doing?" He shook his head.
"I always had a dream of playing for the Sox, they started a farm team down there, went to tryout, was easily blown away but I had already paid a months rent down there." She grinned.
"So what did you do when you failed for the Thunder?" He looked impressed that she knew the team. Three times in one day, that was always a good sign.
"You know them?" He asked her and she shrugged.
"My mum and pop moved there after I finished my undergrad. So what did you do when you didn't make the team?" He shrugged.
"Stuff."
"Like?" She knew that whatever it was he wasn't proud of.
"Well, I worked with the Thunder for a bit." She quirked an eyebrow as they walked down the street.
"Oh really? Let me guess, grounds crew?" He shook his head.
"I only worked for them for two games before I quit."
"Hmm...so what were you that you're so loathe to tell me?"
"Avoiding med school, for one thing." He was trying to avoid telling her what it was and she was pushing him, a joking tug of war fight, she would tug on him to get the information out and he would tug to keep it a secret.
"Don't blame you for that one, but what did you do to avoid going on to higher learning?"
"I worked a game and a half as Boomer before quitting." She laughed as the color drained away from his face, and she stopped her laughing.
"Sorry, but I can't see you running around in a giant green costume."
"Neither could I. Pizza?" He suggested and she grinned, walking into the small pizza parlor.
"Got nothing on New York pizza, but it's not bad. Beats some of the crap they've got overseas. I love the cooking from the old country, but they can't make good pizza." He grinned as she bit into the cheesy, saucy mess.
"But Boston has the one thing New York doesn't."
"What? Chowder?" He nodded.
"Nothing beats Boston chowda." She laughed as he put on the full, grating, New England accent.
They were back on the street waling around, enjoying the night, it was growing colder and colder as it wore on, the fall air starting to bite, and she shivered ever so slightly. He smiled and shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her. She grinned and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Boston only has one song about it though. New York has dozens."
"But Dirty Water is a good song. You have to like the Standells." She laughed.
"Prefer the Dropkick Murphys version of it better." He looked a little shocked at that one, as if she shouldn't know the Dropkicks. There was no rule that said you had to be a teenager to enjoy good punk rock.
"And we've got the green monster." She laughed as he pointed to the bright lights of the stadium.
"Keep it and kick some Yankee ass, us Mets fans need something to gloat about." He grinned again, he really had a charming grin, he looked so young, so carefree when he grinned.
"Boston's a great city." He said as they closed in on her block.
"Not bad, not bad." She admitted walking up the three flights to her apartment. "Fun night." She said, standing in front of her door.
"Yeah." He agreed, and she leaned against the wall.
"Thanks for the guided tour." He smirked. Now that was sexy. He looked mischievous and cunning and, well, sexy when he did that.
"It was nothing." He said, and she unlocked her door.
"See you tomorrow." He nodded.
"Tomorrow." He repeated, and there was an awkward silence between them. She felt as if she was in junior high again, barely a teenager and here they were unsure of how to end a date.
"Night." She said, and she could tell he felt the same awkwardness.
"Night." Again, he repeated what she had said. That was supposed to be a good sign, at least she thought it was. She got fed up with just shifting back and forth waiting to see what happened, and she leaned in and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, not a hungry one, a soft one that said 'thank you' rather than 'I want to jump your bones.'
"Night." She said again before closing the door behind her, leaving him dumbstruck on the landing.