The next morning, Hank had mixed emotions. It was not official yet, but he knew in his own mind that he was done with police work. It was a matter of time now. He would be leaving Chicago PD, Intelligence and his people behind. Saying goodbye to them was going to be painful, but he knew they would be fine without him. Having someone new in charge of the unit would not change the fact that they were good police, and good people.

Focus on the positives, he told himself as he headed downstairs for breakfast. There was a new venture to look forward to, working with Erin and possibly Kalinda. Whether Kalinda wanted in or not, he was prepared to accept her decision without argument. He was aware that asking her to throw in a job that she only just taken in order to come and work as a private detective for a brand new start-up was a lot. Frankly, now that the initial excitement had worn off and he had taken time to try and consider it from her point of view he figured it was more likely that she would say no than yes. And that was fine. If Kalinda didn't want in, Jay was an option. He was sure that by now Erin would have told him what was on the cards, and they were apparently set on working together again.

"Morning," Erin said when he walked into the kitchen. "There's coffee on the table for you. I'll put some toast in now."

"Morning. Thank you," Hank said, sitting down at the table. "Having slept on it, I'm not sure Kalinda will want in with us. It's a lot to ask of her."

"I did think last night when we were talking. Didn't want to burst your bubble," Erin said as she loaded bread into the toaster.

"Have you let Jay know?"

"We were texting about it last night. He wants in if you'll have him. Said he'd work for you wherever you are."

Nice of him, Hank thought dryly. There was a conversation to be had with Jay over his behaviour towards Hailey. It had been out of line, and Hank wasn't going to have Erin treated in that manner. Jay was going to be made aware of that in no uncertain terms. "We'll talk when he gets back here. Which is going to be when?"

"We don't know yet," she said with a sigh.

A couple of minutes later, Erin served him with buttered toast and sat opposite him at the table.

"Hank, how much thought have you put into getting into an interracial relationship?"

"What?" he asked through his first mouthful.

"You heard what I said. How much thought have you put into it?"

"I haven't thought about it at all," he admitted. "I mean, Kalinda's race isn't something I've considered, not being a racist and all."

Erin grinned. "Obviously I know you're not a racist. That's not at all what I meant. You don't have to be a racist to consider her race. What I'm saying is Kalinda's background may be a lot different to yours. Her beliefs may be different to yours. Her life experiences will definitely be different to yours. These are things you need to think about if you're getting serious with her."

"You make a good point," Hank said thoughtfully. He had no idea what religion, if any, Kalinda followed. His impression was that she didn't follow one, at least not strictly. She had never mentioned prayer or any other kind of religious practice. He knew she drank alcohol, and they had already had sex outside of marriage. Nonetheless, it was something to talk to her about.

"Without a doubt, she will have experienced racism," Erin was saying. "You may experience it too now that you're with her. Even though attitudes are changing for the better, there are still people who will look at you as though you're in the wrong because you're with a brown woman."

That thought angered Hank. She was right though, he realised. "It's a conversation I'll have to have with her. Thank you for bringing it up and prompting me. You're right that it's very important. The thought of people being racist towards her boils my blood. I'm sure you're right that it has happened though."

"Are you going over there tonight?"

"Nothing is arranged, but I'd like to. There's a lot to talk about. Plus I missed seeing her last night of course."

Erin smiled. "Of course. Well, I hope you get to go over there, and I hope you have a good time."

The shift at work had been a weird one for Hank, with the knowledge that sooner rather than later he was going to be putting his papers in. Sooner was for the best, not only for him but also for Intelligence. A replacement for Hailey Upton needed to be selected, and there was no point in him doing that now. His successor deserved the opportunity to make that appointment themselves.

In the morning, Kalinda had found an opportunity to briefly join Hank in the canteen. Away from the rest of the team, she had been able to invite him over for dinner that night without anybody having a chance to figure out that there was something going on between them. Naturally, Hank had accepted the invitation.

Now, Hank had just arrived at the apartment building that was home to Kalinda. He pressed the button for her apartment on the intercom near the entrance door.

"Hello? Is that you, Hank?" Kalinda asked through the speaker a few moments later. Even with the low quality, tinny sound produced by the device, her voice still worked its spell on him.

"Hey. Yes, it's me," he replied, aware that his own voice could hardly be mistaken.

"Come up," she said, obviously excited that he was there. The intercom buzzed to indicate that the door was unlocked.

Hank made his way up to the first floor. He found Kalinda waiting for him, standing in her apartment doorway to keep the door open for him. She had makeup on, her hair up in the usual style, and a red leather jacket on, worn open. It was likely not cold enough to need a jacket in the apartment, which meant she was wearing it for his benefit, along with the long black leather boots. She had him on the hook with all the leather, and they both knew it.

"Hello," she said, smiling broadly.

"Hi. Wow, you look unreal," he said. They embraced and kissed when he reached her. It had only been just over twenty-four hours since the last time, yet it had felt like forever to Hank.

"Thank you. You look very dashing yourself," she said as they went into the apartment. "I had to choose between being dressed like this for your arrival or in sweatpants and rubber gloves. The apartment cleaning is about halfway done. Got through the bathroom and my bedroom last night."

"You'd have look gorgeous either way. But you know I'm not going to complain about seeing you in leather. What's cooking?" He had gone through to the kitchen, where food prep was underway. He also noticed that she had incense burning in the living area, giving the place what he guessed was more of an Indian vibe. He liked the smell of it.

"Nothing too special, which I hope you won't mind. We're having noodle and beef salad. I need to learn more about what you like to eat to eat. Hope you don't mind the incense?"

"The food sounds good to me," he said positively. "And no, I don't mind the incense. It's nice. As for what I eat, pretty much anything apart from sushi. Can't stand the stuff."

Kalinda chuckled. "Duly noted. Go through and sit down, Hank. What would like to drink? I've got some beer in, if you're staying tonight?"

"I'd like to stay," he said, moving closer to her, feeling turned on by the implication of that.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Kalinda stretched up and pecked him on the lips. That was all she would offer him for now though. "Go through and make yourself at home. Dinner won't be long. We're going to have to eat on the couch. One thing I didn't think about when we viewed this place: no dining table. I'd like to do something about that, but I'm not sure there's room for one anyway."

"Not a problem for me," he assured her as he headed for the living area. Belatedly, he noticed that she had begun to decorate the space with some items that she must have had with her at her friends' place when she was staying there. He hadn't seen them when he had helped her move her possessions from the storage locker. Two guitars were in a corner of the living area, one acoustic and one electric, both on stands. "You play guitar?" he asked with admiration.

"Not all that well, but yes I play the acoustic. The electric is signed – a display piece."

"So it is," Hank said, crouching down. The electric guitar was black and white, with a signature in black ink on the white part. He couldn't make out whose signature it was. "Who's it signed by?" he asked.

"George Harrison."

Hank had heard the name but he couldn't place it.

"From The Beatles," Kalinda clarified to help him out. He stood back and she moved right beside him. His arm went around her waist as if he had been doing it for years. Their connection felt so natural and strong that those kind of things already happened on instinct.

"Right, of course. That's really something," Hank said, studying the signature. He wasn't overly familiar with The Beatles' music but he knew they were one of the biggest bands of all time. He felt fairly sure some of them were dead, too. "Is he still alive?"

"No. He died in 2001 of cancer. He was a wonderful person, a spiritual person like myself."

That was an ideal opening for Hank to get into talking about religion, as Erin had suggested. However, his attention had been caught by a framed item that Kalinda had put up on the wall.

"A Reservoir Dogs poster," he commented in admiration, walking over to look at it closely.

"A signed Reservoir Dogs poster," Kalinda clarified. "Signed by everyone on it, including Tarantino."

"That's really nice," Hank said. All of the signatures looked great too, in fine blue ink on the white background, and the large poster had a very nice frame with a black border. "This must be worth a lot of money. The guitar must be too."

"The poster cost me twelve grand. The guitar cost me five. Spent some of my inheritance on them. It's best to have your money tied up in property."

Hank thought she would have been better off buying a house if she wanted to have her money tied up in property, but it wasn't his place to judge. She undoubtedly had some nice collectable pieces to be proud of.

"Do you like Tarantino's work?" Kalinda asked him.

"I do. Can't say I watch many movies, or much TV. But I think I've seen all of Tarantino's stuff and enjoyed it."

"Ah, that's brilliant to hear. I would have had to break up with you if you said no."

They both laughed, then, somewhat reluctantly, Hank got serious. "So, I have news, and some other things I wanted to talk to you about."

"Well you can consider me intrigued," she said, delighting him once again with her verbiage. "Let me finish preparing the meal and you can give me your news while we eat it."

"Sounds like a plan," Hank said. While she prepared the meal, he could prepare his sales pitch. It was going to have to be a good one if he was going to convince her to join his private detective service.

A/N: This chapter went longer than I expected so I decided to put a cut in.

Hank and Kalinda get closer and more comfortable around each other with every minute they spend together. But will being in an interracial relationship present Hank with challenges that he hasn't faced before, as Erin suggested?

And will he be able to convince her to join the private detective service?