Thanks for the kind feeback and veering a bit off the posting schedule.Gets everything up faster :).

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Quantico was intense, to say the least. Don knew it would be, but knowing and the participating in the intensity of daily life were two completely different things. It was called one of the most disciplined, blood-and-guts law enforcement training experiences in the world for a reason. Practical application of the training learned in the classroom was put to use in a theater-like obstacle course. Trainees and actors played out real-life arrest and response scenarios before the rookie's observant eyes.

Don also found out he was a fairly good shot when he fired a gun.

That's when he knew. His palms were sweaty, his pulse racing. The adrenaline just followed when he thought about being the one to handcuff a prime suspect and bring them in. To a dirty mind that sounded almost sexy.

The majority of his class was male, with only a few women, but Don decided he did not want to cross any of them. They passed the test for a good reason.

Terry Lake was one of them.

"A profiler, huh?" Don leaned over the textbook she had opened on the library table.

"Yes," she said. "I'm a forensic psychologist. One, who at the moment, is trying to read, actually."

Don wasn't ready to give up. "Read what?"

She smiled, nodding her head. "You're persistent, aren't you?"

"Are you going to profile me?"

She closed her book. "Not unless you want me to comment about your method of flirting."

He laughed. "Not impressed?"

"Depends on what you're looking for."

"A date, perhaps. Dinner."

"I have to do my laundry."

"Ouch," Don responded. "That's right up there with washing your hair. You could have just said no."

"I really have to do my laundry." She held up her hands. "I swear."

"Oh. Well it so happens I need to do my laundry as well. Laundromats are boring and lonely. I'll bring pizza."

"Okay, just we get this straight, is this your idea of a date?"

He shrugged. "You and I both need to get your laundry done. And I don't know about you, but watching my clothes spin dry always works up an appetite."

--

"I'm from Los Angeles, well, Pasadena, if you want specifics."

An hour later, Terry was sorting her whites while Don picked up another slice of pizza. It was Saturday night and the Laundromat was empty, leaving them a sense of privacy. Don never felt more relaxed on a date in his life.

"Los Angeles. Hoping to get sent back there when we're done?" She picked of a pair of socks and rolled them into a ball.

"I don't know. My parents would be happy if that happened. My brother would be ecstatic."

"Most parents would love it if their children stayed close. I know my dad would, but I needed to get away from New England. You have a brother?"

The timer buzzed on a washer. "Charlie. He's six years younger. And a math genius." He selected a dryer and opened the door, before heading to the washer. He started to pull out the wet articles of clothing.

Terry raised an eyebrow. "A math genius?"

"Prodigy, if you will." He closed the dryer door, dumped a few quarters in the slot, and pressed start.

"You don't sound too excited about that. I sense sibling rivalry."

Don shook his head. "Stupid me, I should have known better than to mention family around a psychologist. Charlie and I are close. And sibling rivalry exists between any pair of brothers."

"True," she agreed. "My older brother and I argue every time I see him. Of course, the dynamics are different between a brother and a sister." Terry bent down to pour the detergent into the proper slot.

"I don't know. Either way, older or younger, brothers can still be a pain in the ass, right?" Don approached her and stopped behind her.

"Right." She whipped around and found herself almost face to face. "Didn't see you," she said.

"Sorry," he muttered. It was now or never, he figured. She didn't seem to be backing away, so that was a good sign.

He leaned in, hoping she might meet him halfway.

She did.

--

His mother had told him nothing lasts forever. And he and Terry were the perfect example. He loved spending time with her, but they both had to face reality when their assignments came in. She was going to Washington state. He was going to Albuquerque, New Mexico.

They spent their last night together at her apartment. The boxes were packed and they sat on the floor, a pizza box and a bottle of wine between them.

"When does the moving van come?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Hopefully they'll beat me to Washington." Terry picked up her glass. "You ready for New Mexico?"

"Yes, actually. I'm looking forward to it." He really was. He couldn't wait to start his FBI career.

"It's not California. Disappointed?"

He studied the pizza box a minute. "No. Does that make me a bad person?"

"That you want to get away from your family? Hardly. I think it makes you normal. Besides, New Mexico isn't that far."

"Tell that to my mom. She says I'll never come home."

Terry raised an eyebrow. "Is she right?"

"I don't know." Don picked up the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. He raised his own. "To the unknown." He clinked his glass with hers.

"To the unknown," she agreed with a smile. "I'll miss you, you know. No one else picks up pizza quite like you do."

Don laughed. "I am good at it. I did try and cook though. Remember, that one night after the counter terrorism seminar."

"Right," she said. "And we ended up having pizza that night, too."

"It's not my fault I didn't hear the timer," he defended. "Besides, isn't it the thought that counts?"

"I suppose," she teased. She set down her wine glass. "Don..."

"I know," he said. "Long distance would never work." It wouldn't. Besides, both of them were serious about their careers and he had a feeling the FBI would soon become his number one priority.

"It really is better this way," Terry said.

"Maybe we'll run into each other again. Washington isn't so far."

"Maybe," she agreed. "I stripped the bed, you know."

He smiled. "Who needs a bed?"