-

Another six months flew by. Don found himself running a field office and his personal life disappearing. Visits home didn't happen and even phone calls were far and few between.

He vaguely knew what was happening at home. Charlie had started teaching and apparently loved it. Dad was considering retirement and this year, Mom's tulips weren't growing as well as she'd hoped. But the events seemed a bit surreal compared to the events going on in his daily life.

His desk was drowning in paperwork and he was considering changing his path in the FBI, at least for a while, when he laid his eyes upon her.

"Her" was Kim Hall. Agent Kim Hall. Secret Service.

He was working another bank fraud case that had called for more expertise and undercover investigative work. She walked in and they got to business.

He knew he was in trouble when he found himself searching his brain for a reason to see her outside the office.

Luckily, the FBI owed the Secret Service a couple of rounds. A few drinks at a local bar and he was feeling a bit braver.

Kim cocked her head. "So what are you waiting for?"

He smiled. "Who says I'm waiting for anything?"

She laughed. "Of course you're waiting for something. I'm thinking it's the right time to ask me out."

"Who says I was going to ask you out?" He didn't want to give her the upper hand, although he thought she might already have it.

"You aren't going to ask me out?" She leaned in a little closer to him. "Shame. I would have said yes."

He raised an eyebrow. "You would have? Well, that changes things, then. You free Friday night?"

"I might be. What do you have in mind? Dinner? I know a great place."

He shook his head. "Forget going out. I'll cook."

She looked surprised. "Cook? Well, that's a first. You're on."

--

Unlike his cooking experience with Terry, he managed not to burn dinner to crisp. A last minute call to Mom helped.

"You're cooking?" she had asked. "What's her name?"

"Why do you assume there's a girl involved? I could just be making dinner here, Mom."

He could just see her smile. "Uh huh. So, I repeat myself, what's her name?"

Don revealed Kim's name but nothing else and managed to hang up the phone just as the buzzer rang.

Dinner was wonderful and Kim seemed impressed. He found some women were hard to read and he had to admit, he hadn't had much time for a serious relationship after he and Terry had gone their separate ways. He was married to the FBI.

And Kim was attached to the Secret Service. This could really work.

Before he knew it, months had passed and he was carrying boxes of Kim's things into his apartment.

"You have entirely too much stuff," he told her as he let the last box drop onto the couch.

"Hey, watch it. That could be fragile."

He looked at the label on the box. "It says pillows."

"They're very special pillows. Down," she said, sliding her arms around his waist. He twisted and kissed her.

"Ready for this living together thing?" he asked when they part.

"Oh yeah. First thing I thought we could do was integrate both of our CD collections."

He laughed. "CD collections? You're a wild one."

"I know I am." She reached down to open a box next to the couch. "But you realize something. When you get down to one joint CD collection, there's no going back."

He sat down on the floor next to the box. "I think I could deal with that."

--

One CD collection didn't work. Kim shoved CDs in every place; Don had a perfect system. Yes, he realized it might be slightly anal, but he liked being able to find the right Billy Joel CD when he wanted it. Kim also never put the right CD in the right CD case.

But Kim also surprised him in the shower, made a great plate of scrambled eggs, and didn't might spending a Friday night on the couch vegging with a movie. And when he needed to work, there were no questions asked, as she often had to work herself.

Besides, after a long week of not seeing each other the sex was amazing, if they managed to stay awake enough to enjoy it, a fact neither of them advertised.

He was even contemplating bringing her home to meet his family, which for him, was a big deal. He'd mentioned Kim to his dad, maybe even let it slip that she'd moved in, but he wasn't sure. He didn't want to tell his mother because he thought it might further entertain the idea of grandchildren in her head and he wasn't ready to head down that road yet.

Or was he?

He found himself stopping by a jewelry store or two just to look. Marriage was a huge step and he wasn't sure if Kim even wanted that.

So, instead, he took another step in another direction. He shifted careers. Fugitive Recovery was an interesting realm he'd been wanting to try. Running a field office wasn't exactly what he saw himself doing for the next ten years.

"What do you think?" he asked Kim. They sat on the couch. Don was sprawled across the cushions, his back wedged into the cushion corner. Kim sat on top of him, her head resting on his shoulders.

"Honestly?"

"Of course honestly."

She shrugged. "It's dangerous, but so is every FBI job. And I work for the Secret Service. Who I am to talk? Still, I am your girlfriend here, so as your girlfriend, I suppose it's my job to talk you out of such a decision."

He grinned, shook his head, and starting playing with the ends of her hair. He liked long hair and Kim always wore hers long and down. "So does mean you'll hate me if I do it anyway?"

"It is part of the girlfriend job description. Comes along with three nights on the couch."

"No way. Only married couples can use the 'sleeping on the couch' card."

She tilted her head up at him. "I guess we'll have to get married then, because I like having that card handy."

His smiled faded. Was she teasing? "You serious?"

"About the couch thing?" She shook her head. "No. I prefer sleeping next to a warm body, argument or not."

"No, not about the couch. I meant about marriage."

She was quiet a moment. "I'd like to get married. Someday."

"Any day soon?"

"Fishing for a hint here, Don? The timing has to be right. We're been living together less than six months."

"Yeah," he muttered. "I love you, you know. Just in case..."

"Just in case what? I forget?" She turned her eyes to the TV and snuggled deeper into his shoulder. "I could never forget. If Fugitive Recovery is something you want to try, go for it. Get some thrills. They're fun. Oh, and I love you, too."

"Thanks." He stared back at the TV and felt content.