Ok, here we go, Chapter 3! I hope you guys like it so far, but if you don't, I love constructive criticism. I need guidance here, dear readers! Get brutal…but in a nice way. Thanks!

Ginny stretched in her bed, and for one, blissful moment, all she knew was the soft cotton sheets and the clean smell of her favorite detergent. But that moment was over fairly quickly. The events from yesterday came crashing down on her. There was a man in her apartment. And not in the good way.

Staring at her ceiling, she had no choice but to face the facts. The facts were that this man, Potter, wasn't going anywhere. And he was determined to be as ornery as possible. And you haven't done anything to deserve that. She thought to herself.

Ok, true, she could have been…ok fine! Should have been much nicer. Disgusted with herself, Ginny tore off the covers and rolled her feet to the floor. Stepping into her bathroom, she decided that she would wash off all ill will towards Agent Potter, just rinse it right down the drain. He'd been right, if a little gruff, yesterday when he'd told her that this was just a job. She sighed and stared at herself in the mirror, turning on the sink taps.

She knew that he'd been right to humiliate her. Someone needed to put her in her place. You were acting like a complete git! She told herself, rinsing off her face wash and reaching for a towel. The least you can do is try and make him a little bit at home here. She turned the water off and nodded firmly at herself in the mirror, vowing to start over with Agent Potter.

She quickly pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra under her favorite workout top. Opening her door, the sweet, welcome smell of strong coffee wafted to her. Maybe Potter's doing some apologizing of his own… She thought, feeling suddenly better about her predicament. They could at least try and get along, just a bit. That would certainly make this easier.

But as she stepped into the kitchen, there was no sign of Potter. There was, however, a full pot of coffee with two mugs laid out next to it. One, her favorite, with her name printed across the top and the emblem for her old soccer team, the Western New York Flash, and another, presumably his, with the police emblem inked in gold across it.

Isn't this domestic? She thought, filling up her mug and tilting her head, hearing a whirr come from her workout room. He'd found her treadmill, it seemed. She stepped into the sneakers that she'd set by the front door yesterday. She might as well start now with the new peace pact she'd created. But all thoughts of peace flew out of her head as soon as she entered the doorway of the spare bedroom that housed her weights, treadmill, and yoga mat.

She'd been right about Potter's biceps. They were huge. Then again, so was the rest of him. He ran with long strides, hardly even winded. He also ran shirtless. Ginny's mind stalled as she watched his abs ripple with his movements. A bead of sweat ran from the base of his neck down…down…down. Everything about him as sleek and strong. He had muscles in places that she didn't even know muscles existed in. Her eyes followed the little bead of sweat across his lean stomach, but snapped up to his when she realized she was staring, goggling, really.

He was smirking at her, and she was at least glad that he was using his face muscles again. She'd gotten sick of the stone cold gaze pretty quickly yesterday. She cleared her throat.

"Thanks for the coffee." She said, tipping her cup to him. He blinked at her and nodded minutely. She waited a few seconds before continuing.

"Listen, I think we really got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I just, well, I got really stressed out with all the changes and I tend to lash out at people when I'm stressed. You were absolutely right. This is just a job, and the least we can do is be civil to each other." She finished, looking up at him expectantly. His expressionless mask slid into place again, however, and she could not see what she'd done to put it there. All he did was press the 'stop' button on the treadmill and nod at her as he walked over to the weights and pull-up bar.

"Is that…is that all? You're seriously not going to talk to me. Even though we're living together?" She was stunned. The coffee! It was supposed to be some sort of peace offering, but he was acting just like he had last night. All he did was raise his eyebrows at her and picked up the 40 pound weights. She scoffed at him before climbing up on the treadmill, placing her coffee in the cup holder. She had yet to take a sip of it, but she didn't want his fake-pity coffee. She'd rather pour it over his head.

She took a deep breath while contemplating the buttons in front of her. He'd used her pre-set run, so all she had to do was re-start it. She sighed and looked at him, curling the 40s, keeping to himself.

"Ok, fine. If that's what you're going to do, I can't control you. But I assure you that I intend to remain friendly, even if you're not." She grabbed her mug and made a big show of taking a sip. She gasped. "This is actually really good!" She said with more enthusiasm than she'd intended. He snorted before he could stop himself.

"See! There's a reaction, already. I'm making progress."She grinned at him, replacing her mug and hitting the start button. "I'll wear you down yet, Potter. It is good coffee." She said, feeling her body relax into the steady rhythm of her morning run.

oOo

By the time both of them had showered and dressed, Harry was thoroughly amused. It seemed that Ginny was serious about her threats to be as friendly as possible. He'd come out of her guest bedroom to find her cutting up a banana and plopping the pieces into two bowls of cereal. She pushed one towards her when she was done, but he ignored her and stepped into his surveillance position beside the couch. Her eyes caught his for a moment, and she seemed to take a steadying breath.

"Well, it's at least there when you want it." She said, breezily. She dove her own spoon into the bowl. She looked shockingly good in a thin, green blouse and tight, black pencil skirt. Though, Harry thought, not nearly as good at she'd looked in those tight pants and strappy top she'd worked out in. He sighed inwardly, reminding himself, again, that this was just a job.

But, when he'd woken up last night to a raging hard-on, he'd let himself forget, for just five minutes, that this was strictly professional. He'd taken care of himself, remembering that bloody poster, and then promptly headed for a cold shower. That could not happen again. And the coffee…Well, he'd admit that he wanted to make up some for his remarks last night.

When he'd made it this morning, he'd needed to find a way to tell her that she was welcome to the brew he'd made. It was, in fact, her own grounds and machine. He'd just assembled the correct pieces and added his favorite secret ingredient. The mug with her name had been a lucky find.

Because after last night, talking to her was certainly out of the question. He needed to continue to show her that he wasn't a pushover. He was in charge, and he'd prove it, even if he had to stay silent for the next month. Also, there was the small fact that he was more attracted to her than he'd been to anyone in a long time. Possibly ever. Her fiery response to him, even when she was taking him down several notches with nothing but her mouth and that terribly effective glare…And it was terribly effective. The way she narrowed those velvet brown eyes, pursed her full lips. It turned him on as much as it warned him off. He could barely keep his eyes off of her when they were in the same room, no matter how much she scowled at him.

"So, I'm supposed to go to my parent's house tonight, for dinner. Well, we're supposed to go, I should say. Is that alright, or will it need more time for an official walk-through?" Ginny stared up at him, waiting for a response. Harry was glad for the distraction. Any more thoughts like the ones he'd been having and he'd have to excuse himself. It's not your fault, he tried to reassure himself. You've been fantasizing about her for over four years now. You can't be blamed that it's worse now that you're actually with her…

Right. He cocked his head to the side and tried to give her a look that told her not to expect a response from him. She waved her spoon at him.

"We'll have to make some sort of system, if you're going to continue this…show of…power? I don't know what it is, but you should know I think it's mental. How about this, blink once for yes, twice for no. That's a nice compromise, don't you think? Oh, no, no, no!" She looked rather excited all of the sudden. "If it's a yes, tug on your ear, and if it's no, pretend to scratch your nose! That's much more secret agent-y, don't you think?" She looked at him, grinning broadly.

He had to hold in his laughter, and wasn't quite sure that he was keeping all of the amusement of his face. She waited a long moment, but he refused to give in. Once he began bowing to her silly whims, she was sure to take advantage of him.

She does that all the time, doesn't she? He reminded himself. Takes men in, then dumps them on their asses as soon as she's done with them. Well, she wasn't going to get rid of him on one of her spoiled whims. He was here to stay, and to prove it, he was going to stay silent for as long as possible. No communication, not even silly hand motions.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Ginny called out, but Harry gave her his fiercest look. No wonder she needed a bodyguard, if she was receiving death threats and still let just anyone into her home without looking. He crossed to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was Dawlish, another officer. He unlatched the three new locks he'd installed last night and let the man in.

"Got mail and the paper, sir." Dawlish said, and then, more quietly, "We intercepted another threatening letter. It's been tested for poison and such, if you'd like to see it?" Dawlish held up a plastic bag with a single white paper inside it. Harry reached for it as Ginny came forward to claim her mail.

"Is that…?" She looked suddenly very angry. "I thought someone was going through my mail so I didn't have to see another one of those." She glared accusingly at the letter.

"It's only for Agent Potter, ma'am. It's good evidence, and he's one of the best criminal profilers we've got." Dawlish hurried to explain to Ginny, who ripped her mail out of his hands and stalked back to the kitchen. "There were no prints found, and the paper is all-purpose. It can be bought by anyone at any office supply store in all of Europe. We're still working on the ink samples." He said quietly to Harry, who nodded, dismissing Dawlish back to the hall before re-locking the door.

Ginny, dear:

I saw that you've finally started taking me seriously,

It's about time.

But you should know that no One,

Not even a War Hero,

Is going to save you.

I'll kill Him first, so He doesn't have to watch you die…

Love, Me.

Harry blinked. This was along the same vein as the other letters she'd been getting. The type was black, non-descript. Any printer and computer in the country could have rolled this out. Harry read over it a few more times, committing it to memory before folding his arms to look back at the kitchen.

Ginny was staring quietly off into space, her fingers absently flipping through the pages of Soccer Monthly. Her eyes focused on him, suddenly.

"What does it say?" She asked, more quietly than she'd ever spoken to him. He stared straight ahead. He was here so that she didn't have to worry about these things. If he could help it, she'd never have to read one of these sick notes ever again. Ginny sighed.

"Well, you're the best bodyguard, best criminal profiler, best serial killer catcher," Harry winced as she said this, hoping she wasn't going to talk about his most famous case. She didn't. "Is there anything you're not good at?" She asked, but she wasn't looking at him anymore.

He suddenly had a rush of strong feeling for her. She cradled her coffee cup in her hands and looked lost. She was suddenly pale and tired. He almost wished that there was some way to make her feel better…

He softly cleared his throat. When her eyes found his, he paused for a moment before lifting his hand to brush a finger over his nose. It took a moment before she caught on. Her wide grin made his break in professionalism more than worth it.

"No?" She asked, laughing, "There's not anything you're not good at?" Harry tugged at his ear. Yes, that sounded right. As far as she was concerned he was good at everything, he was bloody Superman. She grinned at him again, and he was happy to see a little color come back to her cheeks. She paused.

"You're…you're going to keep me safe, right? Until they catch this…lunatic?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He tugged his ear with as much force and conviction as he could. She looked endearingly relieved as she gathered her things for work.

Just a job, Potter. He reminded himself, trying not to look at her bum as she bent down to retrieve her briefcase. Just a job, don't get attached. He warned himself.

But, as he followed her out the door, he had to admit to himself that it might be a bit late for that.