FBI DC Field Office, J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building, Room 3311-3315

935 Pennsylvania Avenue Northwest, Washington DC, November 3rd 2006, 8.45 AM

"GOOD MORNING," Sue said as she walked into the Bullpen, her blonde hair graciously falling down her two-piece suit. Through the Venetian blinds the sun's rays pierced into the room, partially lighting her desk. A golden-furred dog she held on a leash stopped next to it as she sat down. "Levi down." The Golden-Retriever did as she told.

"Good morning," came the reply of the tall, dark-blonde agent from his desk just across the room. "Haven't seen Jack have you?" he asked.

"No, Bobby, I haven't, should I?". Bobby Manning, Australian-born from an American father, grinned mischievously. "I don't know what you did to him, Susan Thomas, but the man's practically dying." Sue furrowed her brows a little, but then realisation dawned. She began to smile. "That bad?"

"Worse," Jack said as he walked into the office, his walk more resembling a pitiful drag then the usual lively pace. His jaw clenched a little, his eyebrows drew as he carefully sat down on his chair. He leaned backward against the back of his chair and a relieved smile danced around his lips as he did, eyes closed momentarily. "Oh that feels sooo good," he managed to say with a groan of comfort. As he opened his eyes, Sue was looking at him, her face a mixture of sympathy and joy, eyes sparkling.

He moved his hands, palms facing the body and fingers pointing at each other, simultaneously forward for a short distance. "GO ON, (you) MOCK (me) fs. THOMAS, NONE DIFFICULT CHAIR ME STAY WILL." (Go ahead and mock me, Thomas, I can handle it provided I'll be in this chair)

"It's probably for the best the nation's safety is not threatened by any affray that needs physical participation," the blonde agent next to Bobby said. Dressed in a three piece suit, hair neatly trimmed yet at the same time pleasantly nonchalant, Myles Leland III couldn't hide his amusement at the physical discomfort of the dark-haired agent that sat opposite him. The tall Bostonian, Harvard-educated Myles knew exactly what Jack was feeling. The times he had -upon being dared to- participated in any equestrian event, whether it being Polo or Show Jumping, without proper physical preparation were always accompanied with aching muscles in places one had previously never foreseen.

"He's in no shape to do anything else but sit down," Tara said.

"Thanks for all the support guys," Jack said, plastering a fake smile on his face, even though he didn't mind. "Just let this be a reminder for all of you to be careful when going out with Miss Thomas here: she has a tendency to wear you out physically."

The double layer in his words wasn't missed by Sue, who felt her cheeks colour a few tints.

It wasn't really that long ago when the banter would have been the same, but the meaning behind words was vague, covered by the burden of friendship that never went further. She would have coloured just the same, but the wisdom that things said were being lived up onto made it ever so different. There's a great difference between expectations and experience, she thought as she let her eyes travel from the dark strands of his hair over the smooth surface of his freshly-shaven jaw, the soft lips that were capable of wreaking havoc on her mind and body whenever they were on top of hers.

"Hey, I never said it would be easy," she countered. "But since you said you weren't a novice either…" He held up his hands in self-defence. "I should've expected, I know."

"Not what I would call romantic," Lucy Dotson, the team's Rotor, smirked eyeing both Sue and Jack. "To have your 'knight in white shining armour' as stiff as a column the next day."

"Apart from a few sore muscles, everything else is perfect," Sue said to his defence. Her eyes displaying more affection than her words gave away, a message sent for only one set of eyes: his.

"You never got around to explain just why you had to go out and play Karl May," Tara reminded Jack who just made a rather painful attempt by the looks of it to sit more upright. He gestured towards Sue. "Once again, her idea."

"Oh no, you're not going to blame this on me like you tried before," she responded quickly, her finger admonishingly waving to him. "I just happened to say, when we were driving past Rock Creek and saw a man and a woman riding adjacent to the road, that I would love to do that too but had found no one to go with yet."

"Tell her about the puppy-eyes," Jack smirked. Tara began to laugh, seeing Sue's eyes squinting a little, biting her lower lip as she shot the dark agent a chastising look. "Ignore that last comment. I did not make puppy-eyes."

"You just turned those mesmerising hazel ones on me, that did the trick just as well," Jack said. The slightest of crimson coloured her cheeks as she blew a bang of blonde hair away that had fallen for her eyes, she pushed it back behind her ear as it slid back again, in that instant revealing the gracious curves of her neck he could picture by heart after pressing his lips on that very spot just a day before. The time she took to respond to his comment was evidence enough his words had found the destined spot: her heart. He smiled.

"Anyway," she continued, keeping her eyes away from him while desperately trying to fight the blush that had crept on her cheeks from expanding too much, "then he said the fateful words: I would love to ride with you. It has been a while since I did." She looked up again. "I simply held him onto that promise yesterday."

Then, with her eyes twinkling with mischief, she focused her gaze on Jack again. "Just as I will hold onto the promise he made yesterday before sore muscles acted up that he would go out again with me." Triumphantly she looked around. "Since you're all my witnesses, he can't bail out on that one too."

"If it's not tomorrow I'm fine with that." He looked round to the others. "Now, if you would all be so kind and start doing something useful instead of displaying this unholy glee over my physical discomfort, I'd be grateful."

"Each and everyone of us?" Bobby teased. "Or do you make exceptions?"

"Only one," Jack said. "And it ain't you."