Brandon Cummings walked down a quiet hallway towards a meeting he didn't want to attend. The murder of one of the most promising assets and loss of the information she was carrying was a serious fuck up. He and his partner were interrupted during their search of the Gilmore woman's town house. The flash drive now seemed to be in the possession of the reporter and the police detective. He knocked on a door, entered and closed the door behind him. Ten minutes later he loosened his tie as he strode away from the meeting. After being reamed as an incompetent rookie, he was given forty-eight hours to fix this mess.

" Damn it! Why wasn't her flight rerouted like nearly every other flight had been that day." He mumbled as he worked through his notes again. Gilmore was now in the custody of one Lt. Dugrey of the D.C. police. He checked Tristan's background, mumbling about his privileged upbringing, his war record, anything to convince himself that Tristan was just a rich kid playing policeman. He looked up Rory's background. Single mom… rich grandparents… rich father, same prep school as Dugrey…wait! Same prep school as the asset! "Why did we miss this connection?" He said viciously. Brandon closed the file and shut down his laptop. He then picked up his phone and called his partner Stan. Stan answered on the second ring.

"Tell me they haven't left that damned house" he growled

"I am about to circle the block again. As of five minutes ago they were still at Dugrey's."

"Why aren't you parked nearby?" Brandon almost shouted.

"Snowplows asshole! If I park I get blocked in. They should be finished within ten minutes, then I'll park. Give me an effin' break; I know how to run surveillance!" Stan shouted back.

"Just don't lose them or we will be assigned to East Outback South Dakota!"

"Shit Shit Shit!" Stan exclaimed just as he was about to disconnect.

"WHAT?"

"There are tire tracks leading from Dugrey's driveway! The garage door is closed. The tracks are headed east towards DC proper."

"Follow them!" Brandon hissed.

"Duh! No shit Sherlock! Aw…damn it!" Stan said under his breath. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration.

"Now what?" Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for the bad news.

"The plows just finished clearing the main drag. I can't tell if they turned right or left!"

Brandon closed his phone and stared out the window at the still grey sky. What more could go wrong?

Rory sat snuggly in the front seat as the Beast moved easily among the DC traffic. Slushy roads made for timid drivers, especially those with little winter driving experience. Tristan didn't drive too fast, but he moved with confidence. He didn't want to draw any attention to his car. Ten minutes later they pulled into the garage at the police station and went into the squad room. There were a few empty desks, and a few ringing phones.

"Good. It's quiet in here" Tristan said softly as they made their way to his desk.

"This is quiet?" Rory asked as she looked around.

"Yeah. The bad guys don't like to be out in this weather. It's cold, wet and slippery. They can't get away easily." Tristan said as he took a seat behind his neat desk.

"I think it's because they don't have any winter boots." Rory replied as she sat down. Tristan swallowed a laugh.

"I like that." He said and grinned at her. His heart gave a little thump as he recalled her surprise kiss . He would definitely revisit that.

"Let's get down to our story before too many people get here. We need to get that drive back amongst Madelyn's things. We also need to tie Caulfield to the murder. I am going to put your story and alibi into my notes and request the totaled car be searched for forensic evidence to tie him to Madelyn's murder.

"Where are her things" Rory asked quietly

"In the evidence room." Tristan replied.

"How do we go about getting the drive in there?" Rory asked earnestly

" I'm thinking about that. Maybe we should go back to your house and see if her luggage is still there. As far as I know, we only have what she was wearing. If her other things are still at your house we can hide the drive in her suitcase lining. I'll tie Caulfield to the murder and then get permission to gather her belongings to return to her family. If we are lucky, the alphabet boys will poke around here as the story breaks about Caulfield being the perp. If there isn't any story about what is on the drive, and we don't ask any further questions about why she was staying at your house, we may escape scrutiny from the bad guys and the good guys. Let's let them fight it out between themselves as to who gets the drive. I really don't want you to be in the middle of it."

Rory was silent as she looked at Tristan. "As much as I would love to break a story like this, I know I would be way outside my comfort zone. I am really afraid of spook business. They are too good at making people disappear and making the innocent look guilty. Since we don't know who the bad guys are I wouldn't know who to trust and who to run from. Get rid of it." She said.

"Okay then." He smiled at her serious face.

"Do you have any coffee? I think I need a really big cup." Rory said. Her voice was slightly shaky.

"I wouldn't recommend the tar they make here. Tristan said with a chuckle.

Rory stood up. Tristan saw her rub her palms on her thighs as she did. "Nervous?" he asked

"Scared" she replied

Tristan took her arm as they made their way through the now more crowded squad room. "Let me run my request about the forensics of Caulfield's car by the Captain. I can then take you out to get coffee and we will detour for a quick look at your place. If her luggage and clothing are still there, we'll slip the drive into her suitcase lining and then leave. "

"Will this work?" Rory whispered. Tristan noticed she was pale.

"I think it is our best bet. No one knows about the drive except the spook boys. There has been no splashy headline, no CNN reporters camping out outside any agency and - this is the best part- the murderer is already dead, taken out by the Snowplow of Justice." Tristan said with quiet determination.

Rory pulled up short and stared at Tristan. He turned and looked back at her, a questioning look on his face. Her cheeks began to flush and those amazing blue eyes actually sparkled. "What?" he asked, his hand still holding her arm.

"The Snowplow of Justice?" she said, a smile tugging at her mouth. Tristan grinned.

The Captain gave the go ahead for the forensic work and waved his lieutenant off as the phone on his desk began to ring. Tristan and Rory left the station and walked to the nearby coffee shop. With larget o go cups in hand they went into the garage and climbed into the Beast. They made it to Rory's house in about half an hour. More people were venturing out as the weak sunlight made the snow blindingly white. Tristan slipped on his sunglasses, as Rory dug hers out of her handbag. Tristan drove down the alley behind the row of houses and parked behind Rory's still buried car. The snow blowers were already at work throughout the neighborhood.

"I was thinking, let's be really paranoid and believe the spooks have bugged my house by now." Tristan said nothing. Rory continued "Talk like we know nothing about the drive. I'll whine a bit about having to go back in my house. You pretend to be aggravated and tell me to just get the clothes I need and hurry up about it. I'll whine some more and if the luggage and Madelyn's stuff is still there you put the drive in the lining. Do you have some gloves on you?" she asked seriously. Tristan nodded and pulled a pair or two out of his console. "Good. Let's get this show over with. She finished and unbuckled her seatbelt. Tristan unbuckled but didn't reach for the door. Instead, he reached for her and pulled her in for a kiss. Lightning forked through him. Rory sighed and kissed him back.

"What was that for?" she said breathlessly.

"That was for kissing me in my house. You give me hope, a hope I thought I killed at Chilton all those years ago." He said as he put his forehead on hers.

"Oh." She exclaimed softly. Then, she kissed him again.