A/N: As always, thanks for reviewing! To Rosie and those asking, I don't have a regular update schedule. My life can get pretty hectic so sometimes I'm lucky to squeeze in writing time. I try not to go more than two weeks between updates if I can help it. Please "follow" if you're eager to know when I've updated. :)

Enjoy!

The next morning, Reagan climbed into Deacon's car, her stomach in knots. Not one to be rattled easily, their encounter the night before had managed to leave her nerves a little frayed. She knew dark circles ringed her eyes from lack of sleep, and the sight of her morning coffee in his car was never more welcome than it was today.

She wasn't sure how Deacon would act around her now. Would it be horribly awkward, or would they pretend like nothing ever happened? They seemed to go with the latter.

Deacon greeted her with a warm smile and his usual hello. She thanked him for her coffee, promising to repay him somehow, which he waved off like he always did. They talked about Mondays, the weather, the great officers they work with—nothing but small talk.

Reagan listened to him talk about his camaraderie with Hondo, all the while, admiring the neatness of his facial hair and the cut of his cheekbones. Her eyes moved to his lips and she couldn't believe they had kissed only hours before. She wanted to regret it, but the man was so gosh darn handsome. How could she not want to kiss that?

Deacon glanced at her, catching her gaze on his mouth. He looked back at the road and she saw his jaw jump. Then, he kept talking. She had no idea what he said, but couldn't mistake the hint of redness that had crept into his cheeks.

When he finished, she said, "Oh, good news. The garage called this morning. My car is ready. They said I can pick it up whenever I have time."

Deacon smiled, but when he spoke, his voice didn't quite match. Would he miss these mornings together? She sure would.

"That's great. They're only a few minutes from here, right? Why don't we go and get it now?"

"What about work? Won't we be late?"

He shrugged. "Eh, it shouldn't take very long. Besides, the others might welcome an extra twenty minutes to nurse their hangovers."

Reagan grinned. "Okay, sounds good to me. Then I can stop bugging you all for rides."

He clued her in to her earlier thought when he said, "It's been no problem at all. I think I'm going to miss having someone to share my coffee with."

She laughed. "Oh you can always bring me coffee. I would never turn that down."

He shot her an easy smile as he pulled into the repair shop's parking lot. "Duly noted."

Deacon watched Reagan walk across the lot and enter the garage. She had told him he could go, but he'd insisted on waiting, just in case. He sighed out his tension and tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, keeping the beat of a random rock song on the radio, but he wasn't really listening. He observed her determined stride, how her lithe body moved underneath her LAPD-issued black pants and t-shirt. Everyone wore the same thing, but now that he'd felt the lines of her body, the quiet strength she possessed...

He cleared his throat and adjusted his position in the seat. As much as he told himself that their developing friendship was flirting with the line of inappropriate, he couldn't help his physical reaction to her. When she smiled, her eyes sparkled with life. This was someone who had been dealt a pretty crappy hand in life, but she'd thrived, made something of herself. She had insecurities, like any normal person, and he was flattered that she trusted him enough to share them with him.

The only thing that held him back—other than the giant wrinkle that he was her boss—was her obvious connection with Street. When he saw them dancing in the bar, he felt so green with envy that the strangers around him probably thought he was about to Hulk-out. Reagan wasn't his girlfriend, so she was free to do whatever she wanted with whomever she wanted, but it still hurt. Most likely because Reagan and Street had looked so natural together. The other man had made her smile, lighting up those same sparkling eyes that stirred something in Deacon's chest. He didn't want to get in the middle of that and cause a scene, so he'd left.

And then she'd shown up on his doorstep, eyes unsmiling and skin flushed. Her expression was the complete opposite from the last time he'd seen her. It was clear that something was bothering her, and he'd felt the need to fix whatever it was. He hadn't meant to do it with his lips, though.

Not that that had fixed anything.

She'd still left with a frown and more sadness in her eyes than before. He barely slept after that.

They seemed to be okay now. There was the obvious elephant in the room, but they were both doing a pretty good job of ignoring it. Everything would get better with time, right?

Reagan strolled out of the garage, keys in hand. She gave him a wave and he returned it. She got behind the wheel of her beautiful car and pulled ahead of him, leading the way to the precinct. They parked next to each other and she got out, grinning.

"Oh, baby, I've missed you!" she said as she stroked her hand over the car's roof.

Deacon chuckled. "I would feel the same way. It must be hard to trust other people with her."

Reagan nodded. "Maybe one of these days I'll pick you up for a change."

"Sounds good to me," he said as he retrieved both of their bags from his backseat.

They walked into the precinct, meeting their team members by the computer table. While Luca and Hondo gave Deacon a hard time about not showing up the night before, he watched Reagan and Street out the corner of his eye. She gave the young man a shy smile—something contradictory to her personality—but her gaze said other things. He'd seen that flirtatious glimmer in her eyes, and it killed him to see it directed toward another man.

Had he pushed her away, and right toward Street? His stomach turned at the thought.

He didn't have time for this. For now, he removed it from his mind, and got to work.

Reagan mustered up the best smile she could manage for Street, while fighting the blush that threatened to give her away. He had appeared hesitant before then, like he wasn't sure how to act since they'd kissed on her doorstep. He took her smile the right way, though, because he gave one right back, showing off those dimples every woman couldn't help but adore.

"I take it you got home okay," she said, trying not to wince at her horrible small talk.

Street continued to smile, his lips closed now. He nodded.

She took a step closer to him and turned her back so that the others—mainly Deacon—wouldn't overhear. She forced herself to hold his gaze, even though her heart beat so wildly that she felt breathless. "I had fun last night," she murmured. "Thank you for making a bad day better."

"It was my pleasure. Anytime you need a dance partner, I'm there."

"I appreciate it. Listen, Jim..."

His grin wavered. "Uh oh, you used my real name."

She laughed, the sound uncomfortable. "I really like you, but I think we're better as friends."

"I thought that's all we were anyway," he said, his eyes narrowed playfully.

Reagan arched a brow at him, as if to ask, Seriously?

Street glanced away and lightly licked his lips. "Okay, you're right. I guess friends don't normally end their evenings like that."

"Not normally, no."

"For what it's worth, I really like you too. I consider myself lucky to have you watching my back."

"Thank you, and...likewise." She sighed. "So, we're cool?"

Street nodded. "We're cool."

Luca wandered over and stood next to them, his arms crossed. "What are you two lovebirds talking about? That was quite a moment last night..."

Reagan cringed. Meanwhile, Street held up his hands and said, "Alright, let's not make it weird. It was just a dance between friends. Right, Cas?"

"Right."

She dared a glance at Deacon, knowing his gaze was on them. With a deep frown carved into his features, he immediately looked away when she caught him. He cleared his throat and called for their attention, getting down to business and, thankfully, squashing the awkward moment.

They spent the morning at the shooting range. When no calls came in after lunch, they worked out their boredom in the gym. Reagan paired up with Luca for some kickboxing, while Deacon lifted weights with Hondo. She now considered herself on even terms with both Street and Deacon, but decided to steer clear of them for the rest of day, if possible.

That thought came crashing down when Luca pointed out that Reagan and Deacon were due for a rematch. Panic held her throat within its tight grasp as she watched him slowly walk toward her, his face, neck and arms glistening. He appeared just as hesitant as she did.

For a moment, she imagined their sweaty bodies tangled together on the mat, his hands pinning her down as his hips sunk into the warmth between her legs.

She couldn't do this.

Right when she began to wave it off, a miracle happened.

"Deacon, I need to talk to you," Captain Cortez said from nearby.

He nodded and followed after her. As he left the room, he glanced over at Reagan. The relief in his expression said it all, because she felt the same way.

"Everything okay?" she heard him ask Cortez, but couldn't hear the woman's reply.

"Guess I'll have to wait to win my ten bucks," Luca said, sighing.

Reagan shrugged. "Sorry." Though, she really wasn't.

Deacon returned only ten minutes later, but luckily, the playful moment seemed to have passed. Everyone had already moved on to other activities, to which Reagan was grateful.

"What's up, boss?" Chris asked, no doubt noticing the sharp concern in his brows.

"There was a jewelry store heist early this morning on Sunset Boulevard. Detectives have been following some good leads and are hoping to make a bust soon. They want us on call tonight."

Chris clapped her hands together once. "All right, now you're in it, Cas."

Reagan smiled as Deacon continued on to say, "Hit the showers and go home for a couple hours of shut eye. Grab a bite and then we'll meet at the mall."

"The mall?" Reagan asked, smirking. "You guys shop when you're on call?"

They all chuckled. Luca was the first to answer. "'The mall' just happens to be our super-secret hang out spot. You're officially one of us if we let you in on it."

"Okay cool, but I'm still confused," she said.

Street lightly slapped her arm with the outside of his hand. "I'll text you the directions."

"Thank you. That would be much appreciated, since I apparently have no idea where this place this."

Deacon dismissed them, and Street jogged to catch up with Reagan as she walked toward the locker room.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked with a friendly smile.

Before she could say anything, Deacon said from behind them, "I took her to get her car this morning. She's good, man."

Street cleared his throat and smiled again, but this time it was tight at the corners. "Okay, never mind."

"But thank you for offering," Reagan added, trying to soften Deacon's rejection. She was annoyed, because it wasn't his to give.

"Anytime," Street replied, and briefly touched her shoulder before turning into the men's locker room.

She glanced over to see Deacon's tense expression—something she knew would be there after Street's blatant flirting. She looked away, choosing to ignore it.

She thought she was on good terms with Deacon and Street—and maybe she was—but that apparently didn't extend to the men themselves. If she wasn't careful, she might very well ruin their friendship completely, and that was not something she wanted to do.