For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: It's Laundry Day at Echo Park, and Casey and Ellie find a kitten. In spite of the no-pet policy, they adopt her as a laundromat pet and name her Downy.

Acknowledgment and Acceptance

That first drizzly Sunday, Casey took Downy to a pet store, where he purchased a collar with a name tag, a litter box, and a bed for her. As he set up the litter box in a corner of the apartment complex's laundry room, Ellie opened a can of tuna and added a splash of milk to a bowl for her.

The next Sunday, warmer though still overcast, Ellie took Downy to the vet, for a check up, shots and spaying. Casey tried to ignore the smile from Ellie as he gave the kitten a catnip mouse. After all, it had to have been a somewhat traumatic day.

The Sunday after that, Downy played with one of Casey's infernal Buy More polos as he waited to start his second load.

"So, there's a use for those after all, huh?" Casey asked, watching as she pawed at a collar. He glanced up as the door opened, surprised to see Ellie there, still juggling two laundry baskets. Wordlessly, he stood, taking them from her.

"Thank you, John, so much."

He offered a slight nod, setting them on the table for her.

"How's our girl?"

"She likes that green color as much as I do, apparently," he said, glancing in his own hamper as Downy chewed on the very corner.

Ellie grinned broadly.

Casey leaned against the washer as she loaded it. "What's the excuse today?" he asked, knowing Devon preferred one of the laundromats downtown.

She glanced up at him before returning to her sorting. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said as innocently as she could.

He smirked, offering a slight grunt--acknowledgment and acceptance of her not wanting to discuss it.

She swiftly loaded one washer, followed by the other. "Have you heard anything from the other tenants about her?"

"Mrs. Heditsian thought she was adorable. I don't think Chuck or Morgan know we have a laundromat. Haven't heard anything from the landlord. And, I did a quick check," he said. "No one in the building is allergic, so I think we're safe."

"How do you do a quick check? Run Downy by for a meet-and-greet?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he repeated.

She grinned up at him--acknowledgment and acceptance of his not wanting to discuss it. "I have to work late tomorrow, do you think you could feed her?"

Provided nothing constituting a national emergency arose, he should be able to. "No problem."

She glanced back at Downy, who was really starting to do a number on his collar. "You aren't worried about tears or holes?"

He shrugged.

Ellie didn't mind taking up both remaining machines because it provided at least an hour where she could hang out with Downy and Casey. Once both were filled and started, she leaned against the machine with Casey, glancing down at the kitten, who'd started pawing around, getting comfortable before laying down. She couldn't help but smile. "She really likes you."

"She really likes my clothes," he said, glancing over at Ellie, taking in her blue jeans and sneakers and the well-worn tee shirt.

She looked up at him slowly. Did that man ever wear a color that wasn't black? Or Buy More green? She cleared her throat. "Well, you're an extension of your clothes, so I would say Downy still thinks you're tops..."

He wasn't sure he bought that reasoning, but he let it slide. What he didn't let slide, however, was the feeling that she'd just checked him out. He hadn't made that up. Her hazel--or, technically, they might've been light brown--eyes had raked up his body, starting at his shoes, easing up his dark wash jean legs, hesitating on his chest for longer than a casual glance, before finally meeting his own baby blues.

Given her near instant break of eye contact and the slight pink tinge that took to her cheeks as she'd cleared her throat to speak, he knew for absolute certain that he'd been right.

But, why him? Why would she look at him like that? A perfectly respectable, honorable, married woman looking at a confirmed bachelor, practically married to his job and his country. After all, he'd had an opportunity for his own American dream and had given it up to serve. There was no turning back now, no time machine, no mulligans.

He was just a guy who worked a cover job at the Buy More, moving large appliances and adopting stray cats in laundromats in between saving the world at least once a week.

Ellie didn't look at other guys, not the way she'd just looked at him. What was worse, she'd managed to telegraph it to him. For a split second, she would've loved to have been an ostrich, to bury her head in the sand and try to forget about what she'd just done. But, what was done, was done. There was no going back, no do-over, no magic eraser. And if he wasn't going to say anything about it, she wouldn't either. Maybe they could just agree, in silence, to never discuss it again.

As she watched Downy snuggle deeper into Casey's laundry, however, she realized, on the surface, it was very easy to explain why she'd done it. After all, he was a tall, broad-shouldered guy. And she'd always found those attributes attractive. And his blue eyes were mysterious. They were harsh and unforgiving at one instance but, in the next, they could be soft and compassionate, if only for a moment. There were flickers of humor, too, not to mention vast intelligence. If they were the windows to his soul, she found it to be a deeply complex place. She found herself wishing she knew one tenth of whatever secrets resided there, because they had to be good ones.

"So, can I ask you something?" she asked, turning to face him properly.

He didn't take his eyes off the cat but he dipped his head slightly.

"What brought you to the Burbank Buy More?"

A rogue spy sent an e-mail to his old college roommate... "That's a long story."

"I've got time if you do."

"I'm not a terribly interesting guy, Ellie."

"I find that hard to believe."

He looked over at her, at the inquisitiveness in her eyes, the openness of her expression. "Y'know, curiosity killed the cat... And I think we're both a little too attached to Downy for that to happen."

"Tell me someday?"

He smiled at her persistence. "Maybe."

She'd have to settle for that.

Stay tuned...