Sam fidgeted with his tie; Stella observed the behavior early on. She noted to herself how his neckwear was something he messed with when he was deep in thought, processing or discussing certain aspects of the case.

There were a lot of things Sam did that she took notice of, and even more so, there were things about him that she'd taken delight in. He certainly knew how to use his hands and his mouth well.

She squirmed in her seat at the thought of Sam's mouth on her body.

"You okay?" He said.

"Hmm, oh yes. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"You, and your mouth, and when I might taste it again."

Sam swallowed hard and chucked, "Well, Gibson I certainly won't ever have to worry about you telling me what you think."

"I don't have time for evasiveness," Stella said.

But deep down she knew her statement wasn't entirely truthful. Certain aspects of her life were easily categorized, sex and career among them. She could separate them and place them in a box; easily accessed when needed.

But matters of the heart didn't always fit neatly inside a box. Lines blurred when emotions and feelings came into play, and Sam was slowly creeping into the world of the uncategorized. Yet, now wasn't the time to spend analyzing her thoughts on Sam and she quickly dragged herself back to the here and now.

To save time after their impromptu make-out session in the car, they had picked up something quick to eat so they could continue working. Sam busied himself with the navigation system while Stella remained focused on motive and the forensic evidence.

"Okay, you ready? Let's knock out this list." Sam said as he crumpled up the thin paper his cheeseburger came wrapped in, and as if he were playing basketball, tossed the paper ball into the take-out bag sitting at the base of Stella's feet.

"Ohhh, nothing but the bag, " he said as he made the shot with juvenile animation.

Stella ignored his basketball reference and responded with a flat, "Yes, I am ready."

His boyish charm, however, did not go unnoticed and without diverting her eyes from her journal of notes she cracked a small smile from the corner of her mouth. Sam glanced over and smiled, Stella feeling his stare, looked up. "Don't do that, there will be time for looks such as that…," pointing at the large smile plastered across his face, "...later, more times indeed."

"That's good to know, Gibson."

He said with a slight chuckle and reverted his eyes to the road, nodding in approval as he drove off toward their first stop on the list of hardware stores.

Hello, Stella.

Stella Gibson, good to see you.

Stella Gibson.

S tella.

Jim sat on the plane rehearsing the greeting in his head. His mind was on her, on Stella.

He had an hour before landing and he wanted to make sure he got it right. He wanted to be confident in his approach. He would be seeing the woman he was slightly obsessed with (therapy taught him that) for the first time since, well he couldn't remember the last time, or he didn't want to remember.

Denial .

When he was around Stella he became a bit paralytic. She was his Achilles heel. When it came to Stella, his good intentions had ended poorly for him. He held onto their past trysts like a badge of honor; but deep down, he knew it was anything but honorable.

He thought if he could validate the affair, it might be an indicator that they could have been something more, but delusional is what she called him. And now looking back, it was hard for him not to carry the same sentiment.

True, he should have seen it. In his heart of hearts, he knew she was out of his league but now he was several hours away from being around her and he needed to rehearse what his first encounter would be like, especially because he had been away from her for some time.

How long had it been? He needed to remember this was a job. He was sent as a neutral party, to make sure both agencies were cooperating and in the end, catch a serial killer. It didn't matter that he had a history with Stella, he would focus on the task. Stella was a bonus...or a curse, maybe both he thought.

"It's five o'clock Gibson, you up for one more?" Sam said as they walked to the SUV. Several hours and miles had passed by with no luck. They had been to every hardware store except one; so far, all had turned up empty.

"Let's get it done. Then dinner?" Stella said with a slightly exhausted tone.

"Sounds like a plan."

Twenty minutes later they pulled up to a small stand-alone hardware store tucked at the base of a wooded area. The parking lot was empty and when Sam put the SUV in park he turned to Stella, looking past her toward the small store, "It might be closed."

Stella observed the dimly lit store, then glanced at the dashboard radio, "They must have closed at five."

Sam nodded and sighed, getting out of the vehicle, "I'll go check it out."

Stella stepped out of the SUV and leaned against the large passenger side door with her arms crossed. While she didn't sense any danger, Sam was her partner and she felt the necessary pull to be on guard in every situation. She watched him from afar as he gave the front glass door a pull, then turned around to face her; and with a shrug of his shoulders, he shook his head no . She acknowledged his gesture by returning a small wave.

"We can check this one first thing in the morning," He said once he made it back to where Stella was standing.

"It is a disappointment, but at least it's just one." Stella offered.

They both made their way back into the vehicle and silence quickly took over as Sam navigated the SUV toward the highway. Stella pondered over the details of the case in her head and she assumed Sam was preoccupied with his own. Her thoughts lingered on the forensic evidence found at the last crime scene.

The tape residue. Why now, what reason would the killer leave behind something so easily traceable?

Suddenly it came to her, "Sam," she said, jolting him from his reflections and disturbing the quietness that had settled between them, "I have a theory."

"Hmm?" Sam drawled, his eyes staying focused on the road.

"People get sloppy when they're in familiar surroundings."

"Okay," he said with piqued interest in what she had to say, "What are you getting at?"

As a reference to her point, she flipped through her spiral, landing her finger on previous case notes, and continued talking, "In some of my most difficult cases, we ended up catching our suspect because they left crucial evidence behind. In some of these cases, several actually, the perp had been operating in an area that was considered familiar or close to home."

Sam nodded in agreement, "I see; you think he might be from the area?"

"I do."

Stella looked over at Sam, she could tell he was thinking. It didn't take him long however to interject his thoughts on what she had just suggested.

"You might be right, let's look for locals in the Angeles National Forest county that have a criminal history. We could get lucky."

"Yes, I suppose we could get lucky," she said with a smile and a long sigh. She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes for the duration of the car ride. When they reached the hotel, Sam let her know he would go home, change his clothes and be back to pick her up for dinner. He had just the place in mind he told her as she stepped out of the vehicle.

"Great I should expect you back in a.."

"An hour," Sam finished her sentence.

On the ride home, Sam took the opportunity to digest the day's events. A warm smile appeared across his face as he mused about his backseat entanglement with Stella. He'd never done anything like that before, at least on duty anyway. If they would have been caught, he thought; Ed would've called him every curse word in the book. Sam chuckled at the idea of Ed and the spectacle he would have surely made.

The ringing of his cell phone disrupted his daydream; he pressed the answer button on his steering wheel as he turned onto the highway that would eventually take him home.

"Hodiak," Sam said into the void.

"This is dispatch, Detective Hodiak, we have a possible 10-65 out in Angeles National Park. The first officer to arrive at the scene called in asking for you."

Sam's hands gripped the steering wheel, "Address?" he asked.

"2411 Dusty trail," the operator said.

"Who called in the missing persons?"

There was a moment of silence and Sam could hear the operator typing, seconds later, "Parent, looks like Mother did."

"Okay, call the 10-8 in, I'm on my way." Sam hung up, and moments later over the police scanner, "10-65 we have 10-8 confirmed and on route."

Quickly soon after, another faceless voice responded, "Roger that. Code 1."

Sam took the next exit and quickly flipped the Tahoe's emergency lights on, less the sirens. He dialed Stella's cell and within seconds her voice streamed through the speaker.

"Gibson."

"Hey, looks like dinner will have to wait, we have a missing person, possible connections to our perp. I'm heading back, be there in five," he said.

"Okay, I will meet you downstairs," she said as she grabbed a light jacket and traded her heels for sneakers.

With reluctance in her voice, she added, "Oh, and Sam, I will have the front desk call our guest. Might as well brief him in and bring him along."

"Right, see you in a few minutes."

Sam hung up, switching from relaxed to high alert, hoping that this might be the break they needed.

Stella stepped into the hallway and made her way to the elevator, pressing the down button for the lobby; she thought about what Jim's presence would do to the investigation. It wasn't that she didn't like Jim, she didn't respect him. And to Stella, respect was by far a necessity in every relationship, especially in a working one.

She was running on fumes and adrenaline. The idea that they might have a lead and a chance to catch their killer; consequently saving a young life, did not go unnoticed in her cerebral cortex. She was in high-intensity, detective mode.

Not even Jim was going to change that .

Exiting the elevator, she approached the front desk and discreetly held up her badge, "Could you ring Jim Burn's room please, he is needed in the lobby."

The young woman tapped a few strokes into her computer, dialed the number, and handed the phone to Stella.

One ring.

Two rings.

"Hello, this is Jim."

Stella took a deep breath. Centering herself on the task at hand, she ardently spoke into the receiver, "Jim, it's Stella. We have a break. Meet me in the lobby right away."

Ah, Stella. Well..."

She hung up the phone before Jim could finish his sentence. She didn't have time to engage in conversation over the phone. Whatever Jim had to say, he could say it to her in person when he arrived downstairs.

She made her way to the center of the lobby, and at the same time, Sam entered the hotel. Stella instantly felt calmer and remembered she had an ally in Sam. He walked over to her, and while she had wanted to greet him with more; a smile and a nod was all she produced.

"You okay, Gibson?"

"I am…," looking up at Sam and crossing her arms, "... thank you for asking."

Sam affirmed her response with a simple nod of the head and said, "I have a feeling about this."

Just then, Jim Burns walked out of the elevator. Stella noticed his salt-n-pepper hair and beard right away; he hadn't changed much in appearance, and he still dressed the part, but deep down, she knew exactly that– it was a part.

She knew things would be very different from here on out. Not because she was intimidated or fearful of Jim, on the contrary, what made the situation complicated was the exact opposite. Jim was incompetent at best, and nothing irritated Stella more than a leader with incompetence. She hated doing someone else's job and Jim had a knack for slithering in when she had done all the work.

With Sam she didn't feel like she had to pick up his slack, she respected him and she knew he respected her. Sam was capable of doing the job, and she had already seen he could do it well; there was no peacocking with Sam, they were equal, they were partners.

Jim started to walk over, waving as he did so. Stella turned to Sam and looked up, she could see him studying Jim, maybe even profiling him. Although she was the trained profiler, she suspected Sam had a decent handle on it as well. Something he most likely developed from years of good detective work.

She uncrossed her arms and whispered through a stoic smile, still staring at Jim as he began to close the distance between them,

"God Sam, I would love to know what you're thinking right now?"

"Hmmm, I'll let you know later."

It was all he had time to say before Jim Burns stood hubristically in front of them. Stella was tasked with the introductions. Jim and Sam quickly shook hands and pleasantries then made their way out of the hotel lobby and into Sam's idling Tahoe.