Assistant U.S. Attorney Robin Brooks blinked several times and tried to focus on what the man in the witness stand was saying.

She had been thinking about Agent Don Eppes. She hadn't stopped thinking about him since he knocked on her door late last night. Even dreamed about him.

Looking back, she was very glad that she didn't jump him last night. Okay, she wasn't glad but it was the right thing to do. The right thing to do. She repeated to herself. He had been very vulnerable, had come to see her after solving the case involving the death of his ex-girlfriend. He had obviously wanted sex, but damn she respected him and to be honest, wanted a whole lot more than a one-night stand. But she had come very close to jumping him anyway.

When he had come through her door, he had brushed right up against her. She had felt the cotton of his shirt against the silk of her own. His face had been an inch from hers for the briefest moment. She had breathed in, expecting a wave of alcohol. Instead, he had smelled clean, with a faint scent that was rich and spicy, like oranges in the hot summer sun. He hadn't been drinking to get up the nerve to knock on her door – he had cleaned up and put on cologne.

Evidence of premeditation, she had thought at the time and smiled now, remembering her surprise. She had thrown herself at him when they'd met – harder than she had anyone for a long time. At the time, he seemed not to notice. He was FBI through and through, married to his job, completely oblivious to the effect he had on women - and some men too, no doubt.

He wasn't just gorgeous, he was kind, decent, smart, funny, intense, and had a smile that was pure sunshine. Not to mention the cutest ass.

There she went again. Was she really that shallow?

Someone cleared their throat and Robin snapped back to the present. The judge was looking at her. Had he asked her a question?

"Yes, sir?" she said quickly.

"I was asking if you had any objections to the defense's proposal."

"Please restate the proposal."

The judge shook his head slightly then repeated, "The defense would like to adjourn for the rest of the day to investigate this witness's statements."

"No objections," Robin said, and hoped she didn't sound as relieved as she felt. There was no way her brain was going to be involved in this case right now. She was going to have to ask the court recorder for a transcript of the entire morning.

"Court is adjourned until tomorrow at eight-o'clock." The judge tapped his gavel and stood up. She stood up and managed not to wilt under the judge's sharp gaze.

The judge left, and she gathered up her files. Had she even opened any of them this morning? She shoved the paperwork into her briefcase and fled the courtroom.

Some of her distraction could be attributed to lack of sleep. Don hadn't left until well after 3AM. They had talked and sipped wine. He had taken her hand and kissed her palm. Then he had looked at her, desire warm in his brown eyes. She had gathered up all her nerve and said that she knew his last case had been a difficult one for him. That a good friend had died.

He had gone very still, his face closed down. Then, incredibly, he had given her a small half-smile and said, "Okay". He had let go of her hand and sat back in his chair.

With that little gesture, her resolve had almost vanished. She held on to the last remnants of her willpower, just like she held on to the arms of her chair. When she wanted nothing more than to jump up and climb into his lap. She wanted to run her hand through his spiky hair and kiss those lush inviting lips. Damn did he look good in those jeans. He'd probably look even better without them …

"Oof" someone said, as Robin walked right into him.

"Sorry," she said to a man she recognized as one of the local defense attorneys.

"Didn't mind," the man grinned. "A little distracted today, Counselor?"

"Yes," she said, and to her embarrassment, felt her face growing red.

"Lucky guy," the man laughed.

She flushed darker. "Very lucky guy." Then she hurried away, to the sound of the man's increased laughter.

Outside the court building, the sunshine settled her down a little and she was able to take a deep breath. She wondered if she had parked her car here or walked from her office. She couldn't seem to remember anything this morning.

Last night, after she had turned him down, she had fully expected Don to stand up and excuse himself. Instead, after a brief pause, he had asked if she liked baseball, which they both knew was a loaded question.

Luckily, she did, so they were able to talk about that for quite a while. Don even told her some funny stories from his days in pro ball.

She had told him that she had seen him play on the FBI team once. She didn't mention that she couldn't remember the box score or who won, but remembered exactly how he held the bat and the bunch of his jaw as he chewed hard on his gum.

Much later, when the wine bottle was empty, they talked about more serious things, like cases that had gotten under their skin. She spoke quietly and listened carefully, since she had the sense that few people were allowed to see this side of Don Epps. The side that ached for victims he was too slow to save, too stupid.

She felt privileged, and a little frightened, that he had opened up to her this way. They hadn't known each other long. What was he expecting from her?

Looking up, Robin realized that she was standing in the middle of the parking lot, with no idea which way her car was. As she turned around, searching for her red BMW, her stomach growled. She checked her watch, and indeed it was lunch time.

I wonder if Don has had lunch. I wonder if Don would like to BE lunch.

She gave herself a hard shake. She was acting like a teenager with a puppy-dog crush. No, I'm a grown woman and this crush is fully-grown, mastiff-sized, and with a lot of sharp teeth.

Well, there was nothing to do about it but face it. She finally located her car, unlocked it, and dumped her armful of paperwork on the side seat.

She pulled out her cell phone and stared at it for a moment. What was she going to say? Keep it simple.

Scrolling through her phone, she found the number for the LA FBI office. She cleared her throat as the phone was ringing.

"Federal Bureau of Investigations," a cheerful voice said, "How may I direct your call?"

"Agent Don Eppes, please."

She heard a click and another ring, then his voice at the other end – professional, curt.

"Eppes."

"Hi, Eppes," she said. "Have you had lunch?"

"Counselor …" his voice was immediately warm and welcoming, and she felt her heart rate increase.

"I didn't get up in time for breakfast this morning," she said, "So I'm starving."

"I missed the start of my first meeting – and they didn't even have donuts."

"Lunch, then?"

"Sounds great."

"I'll pick you up in … ten minutes."

"Where we going?"

"You picky?"

"About food? No. Other things, yeah."

She didn't know exactly what he meant by that, but it sent another jump to her heart rate. "It'll be a surprise, then."

"I love surprises."

Closing the phone, she noticed her hands were shaking. She got into her car and raced out of the parking lot. She had absolutely no idea where they were going to eat lunch, how she was going to act around him, or where to go from there. She only knew that Don had taken the first step, and she was going to take the second … and the third and the fourth too, if necessary. Special Agent Don Eppes had no idea what he had just gotten himself into.