They spent the next hour discussing details of the operation. The 'high-end business' ended up being a chic country club where wealthy men spent hours on the golf course while their wives gossiped at the pool all day.

Intel suggested that new couples were targeted within days of joining the club by the suspected drug traffickers. The suspects offered to have a "Welcome to the Club!" get-together for the couples at nearby dinner hotspots.

Always telling the couples that they would be directed to the VIP lounge after handing the bouncers their "ticket". A ticket that happened to be elaborately designed - filled with notches and conveniently stuffed with illegal substances.

The couple was directed to pick the ticket up at an inconspicuous location before the dinner. Upon arrival to the VIP lounge, the "welcoming club" would always conveniently not have been able to make it to the dinner and would reschedule elsewhere at a later date and time to repeat the same process until their excuses ran out and they eventually had to dine together or risk suspicion.

Tim and Lucy were directed to identify who was a part of the "welcome party" and who was providing and receiving the "tickets". Ideally, multiple locations and subjects would be identified in their operation.

Initial feelings of awkwardness eased as Lucy realized this would not be something too intimate for her and her TO. And thank god for that. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to handle that. At all.

Still...she threw little glances his way during the briefing to try and get a read on his feelings. Nothing. Stoic, as always. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Would they have to kiss?

Her bet was no. This sounded like a high-class gig where PDA was not acceptable. Maybe a peck on the cheek. She could handle that. Right?

As they made their way to their cars to prepare for their assignment, Tim stopped suddenly causing Lucy to slow and turn hesitantly to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he nearly whispered.

Surprised by the emotion she saw openly displayed for her, she stuttered out, "yeah, yeah...of course. Are you? I mean we can say 'no' right? I totally understand if this is too much."

His emotion wiped from his face, he turned on his TO voice, "Boot, do you think I can't do my job? This is a walk in the park. Now get going. If you're late, you're back in longsleeves."

Not phased by his TO-voice, and not missing how he didn't call her out on flipping his question on him, she gave a small grin and headed to her car.

She definitely didn't miss how he watched her get into her car and let her leave before he did. She was lucky to have such a great man in her life. Totally all bark.

As directed, Lucy packed for a week and made sure to not leave Jackson a note with all the details. Even though she really wanted to. And her phone would definitely be blowing up with texts from Jackson and Noland as soon as word got out. Totally not ready for those questions.

At the honk of a horn, she glanced out the window to find Tim lounging casually in the drivers seat of a bright red Corvette. Subtle.

Locking her apartment and heading down the stairs, she opened the car door. Sliding onto the beautiful leather seat, she took in the sight before her. Goddamn. Tim had never looked more like he belonged in a magazine than he did in this moment. Get it together, Lucy.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Samuels," Lucy teased with a smile.

"Head in the game, boot. I'm Tim to you."

"And that means I'm not boot to you, Tim," Lucy replied with her typical snark, though looking forward to hear him call her by her actual name for once.

Rolling his eyes, Tim shifted into gear and pointed their car toward the highway.

"Ready to have some fun, Lucy?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Am I ever. Shoving her unprofessional thoughts aside, she focused on what he must actually be talking about. The car. It goes fast. Right. Wait, what?

As he floored it, her head was pressed back into the expensive leather seat as she sputtered out, "Tim! We can't get pulled over! That would totally be-" the rest of her sentence was silenced by his warm hand pressing gently over her mouth to shut her up. Effective as hell. This was going to be a disaster.