A/N: WOoooOWWWOOWOOWOWOooooo 3. Let's gooooooo.

Usually, mornings in Seattle were cold. Even inside, even under the blankets. Cold. But this morning it was warm. It was beyond warm. It was hot. It was hot, and smooth, and soft, and I could feel it under my fingertips.

Holder.

I knew it was him without having to open my eyes. I could just feel it. Smell it. Even taste it, if I concentrated.

He was on his back next to me, one arm up by his head, the other wrapped around my back, stroking up and down my spine through my thermal shirt. I stretched, pushing myself closer to him, letting my fingers go under his t-shirt to gently play against the golden hairs on his lower stomach. I only opened my eyes when his hand left my back and I heard the tell-tale sound of a lighter.

Holder was already looking down at me, smiling lazily. His eyes, those warm hazel eyes, were happy and relaxed. And sitting there, my body pressed against his, my arms moving up to wrap around his torso, looking back at him... I was happy, too.

"Angel."

I had to admit... even though I gave him grief over it, Holder having nicknames for me didn't bug me that much. Normally, I did hate nicknames like that. Pet names. But usually it felt sleezy. Forced. With Holder, I got the feeling it was just... him. It was just a Holder thing.

"Angel."

Angel, specifically, was growing on me.

But wait. That... was Holder's voice. But I was looking at him... his mouth hadn't moved.

It was colder, now. Not nearly as comfortable. And it was loud. There were people around nearby...

"Angel, baby, come on, wakey wakey."

I opened my eyes. I was on the couch at the back of the office. I hadn't gone home last night. The weather was too bad. It was late. I'd slept on the couch in my sweater.

"'Atta, girl."

Holder? Oh God. Of course I had to wake up from a dream about Holder because Holder was waking me up.

I looked up at him. Even when he was crouching down to sit on his heels, I still had to look up at him. I was lying down on a couch, though, so it wasn't too upsetting.

He had a hand on my shoulder, like he's been shaking me to wake me up. I looked to his hand, what was underneath it. His jacket. The leather one. It was draped over me. That's why it had been so warm. That's why it smelled like him.

I looked back at him. Hazel eyes. Just like they were in my dream. Well. Not as relaxed. He could definitely do with some sleep. But still. Happy. Teasing.

"Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Princess, but Linden needs a file. She says you can find it."

I groaned and shut my eyes again, pulled his jacket closer. In this case, dream was definitely better than reality.

"Does nobody else work here?" I asked, voice muffled by the jacket.

"Nobody as fine as you. You could probably enter a beauty pageant right now and win."

"Shut up, Holder."

Of course I was blushing, but only because I probably looked like crap right now. And ugh. mornign breath. It was embarrassing.

"Aw, don't be like that. I thought we were friends now."

I cracked one eye open. "Says who?"

"Oh, grumpy in the morning, huh? I'll have to remember that."

"What time is it?"

"Almost six a.m."

I sighed, both eyes closed again. "Coffee?"

"At the front desk, Sugar. I didn't know how you take it, so I just got a bunch of them little cream and sugar packets."

"One sugar, two creams."

"Do I look like a maitre'd? Make it yourself."

"Do you want that file or not?"

He harrumphed. "Sooner you get me the file, sooner you get the coffee. Or sooner you can go back to sleep and get back to that dream you were havin' about me."

How the hell... I looked at him, wide awake now as I sat up.

"What file?"

He smirked. "So you were dreamin' about me. That's okay, baby. Ain't nobody can resist this."

Cover, cover, cover... "No. Ew. But now that you've put the thought in my head, I'm too scared to go back to sleep, just in case."

I slipped my arms into the sleeves of his jacket as he rambled off some file details. He didn't mention the coat, so I guess he didn't mind. For now, at least. Whatever. That jacket was warm. I wasn't about to give it up.

"Get me coffee. I'll get your file."

Not three minutes later, I'd pulled a hard copy, and found a scanned copy, which I emailed to Linden. Holder found me back on the couch, leather coat still around me as I checked my phone.

He took the file. I took the coffee. He left. Or so I thought.

I had just taken my first sip, still looking down at the phone, when I felt something by my stomach. Looking down, I saw Holder's arm reaching into the pocket of the leather jacket, fingers wiggling around for something. I looked up at him in surprise. He was already smirking down at me. Five seconds later, he stopped, pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

"Leather looks good on you, Angel."

A wink. And then he left.

FIN.