Author's Note: And away we go! Finally, Shane and Oliver are working together at the same DLO. It's taken a while, but like the new movies currently in production, trust the timing. The beauty of writing an alternate universe is that I get to set the pace. And, oh my goodness, I don't think we're going to be at the snail's pace we're used to with Oliver. He's got it bad but in the very best way!

Chapter 3

Oliver's chest pounded as he lay in bed, unable to find a comfortable position. The ticking of the clock on his bedside table echoed in the silence, an aggravating reminder of every second of sleep he was missing out on. He tossed and turned, fluffing and punching his pillow most of the night. He finally conceded that sleep was a lost cause and sat up. He stabbed through the darkness in search of the lamp switch and turned it on. The hands of the clock read 4:40 a.m., 20 minutes until the alarm would sound. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he debated one final attempt at a few more minutes of desired sleep but knew it was futile. Better to get out of bed and begin his morning routine.

Forty-five minutes later, he closed his Bible, his finger brushing over the cameo bookmark that held the page. For as long as he could remember, he'd been the caretaker of both family heirlooms. The pages of his grandfather's Bible were fragile with age and the ivory rose of his grandmother's bookmark had been smoothed from years of use, both by her and now him. Some might consider both too delicate for everyday use, but they were a daily reminder of two of the most influential people in his life.

His morning prayers had included Shane, as they had for several weeks now. He prayed they would be able to work together while still growing their relationship outside of the DLO. A hint of a smile crossed his face, remembering her surprise when he told her he prayed for them. An involuntary shudder passed through him, the memory of that Sunday morning, just a couple of weeks ago, still vivid. Her voice was soft as she spoke from the pew behind him at his church. She slid into the pew next to him, taking his hand. The playful smile that curved her lips as she told him she hoped to never stop surprising him filled him with hope. Maybe, just maybe, it was finally his time for a relationship with someone who would care for his heart as much as he wanted to care for hers.

Two weeks earlier, over lunch at a French bakery, she agreed to come work with him at the main branch. Her supervisor, Carl, was easy to convince. He admitted there had been a change in Shane when she returned from her training assignment. He acknowledged she seemed restless and less satisfied with projects that previously were approached with enthusiasm. Oliver expected more pushback from his branch supervisor, Andrea, but received nothing more than a snarky and confusing comment about going above her head to get what he wanted.

###

On the Friday evening before Shane was to begin her new position, Oliver invited her to the Italian restaurant where they had their first dinner together. At that time, Oliver was still married, and Shane had gotten her first taste of solving a dead letter case. But this night was not only a celebration of Shane's new role, but it was also another step in the progression of their relationship. There had been several casual dinners together in the last couple of weeks, followed by swing time on Shane's porch. The conversation between them rarely lulled, and for all the stirrings he felt when he was with her, he was doing his best not to rush things, proceeding with the caution of an archeologist delicately uncovering a rare and valuable artifact. His relationship with Shane was quickly becoming the most important thing in his life, and he didn't want to risk what was developing between them.

After dinner they strolled around Smith Lake at Washington Park. Her hand fit snugly into the crook of his elbow, and he covered it with his own. They were discussing what Shane could expect on her first day at the Dead Letter Office. She'd balked at the thought of reporting to Andrea Schmeckle before joining the DLO, but Oliver reassured her that it was just standard protocol and, regardless of how they felt about her, she was still the branch supervisor.

"I have to say, I was surprised when she didn't question your transfer. I was expecting much more pushback from her."

Shane's head snapped away from him, and Oliver felt her hand tighten its grip on his arm. He couldn't see her face, but he sensed she was trying to conceal something. He halted in his tracks while she continued walking. Still holding his arm, she stumbled when her steps went on, but his did not. He released her hand and turned her to face him. Her lips pressed together into a thin line, and he wondered what was behind her uncharacteristic silence. "Shane? Is something the matter?" His stomach twisted. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was keeping something from him, and the possibility of that was a painful reminder of the secrecy he had endured in his marriage to Holly. "Shane, if this is going to work, you need to be honest with me. Whatever it is, tell me. Now." His words came out harsher than he intended, and tension filled the air between them.

Avoiding his gaze, she averted her eyes and looked down at the trail. Oliver reached out and gently placed his finger under her chin, tilting her head up so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. A weighted sigh escaped her lips. "It's really nothing, Oliver. I have a friend, Becky, in Washington, and I asked her to help secure my transfer."

Oliver felt the sudden release of tension and chuckled. "I should have known Andrea wasn't making it easy out of the goodness of her heart. Am I being put on notice that should the job not meet your expectations, that your friend will come to your rescue again?" His question was met with pursed lips and crossed arms.

"Oliver, I did not, nor do I expect to need to be rescued. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Her hands sat firmly on her hips. "I knew Andrea wasn't going to do you any favors, so I took it upon myself to ensure the transfer."

Oliver reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss before gently tucking it back into his elbow, his thumb stroking over the peaks and valleys of her knuckles. The spark he felt every time her skin connected with his shook him to his core, as if struck by a thunderbolt. They continued their walk along the path in silence. The sun was getting lower, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges. His mind whirled like a spring tornado. He was going to need to stay on his toes. If Shane had someone in Washington who could arrange her transfer, he wondered who else she had behind her and what they were capable of and willing to do for her. He stole a glance at her. Yes, there was more to Shane McInerney than meets the eye, but how much more? Of that, he wasn't sure. The idea of unraveling all of her facets was both intriguing and intimidating. He wondered if he would appreciate all her layers.

"Can we change the subject?" Shane asked.

Her question pulled his attention back to the present. "What would you like to discuss, Ms. McInerney?" Oliver noted her rolled eyes at his use of her surname.

"Let's talk about Monday." Her tone brightened and took on an air of excitement. "What should I expect?"

"Well, you will be shadowing Rita for the first day. She has an excellent understanding of our processes."

Shane playfully nudged Oliver's shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye as she asked, "So you're not going to be training me, Mr. O'Toole?"

"There will be matters that fall under my purview. You will also spend time working with Norman. Each of us has our area of expertise that we will share with you, and by better understanding what each of us does, you will have a better grasp of how your talents can aid in our mission."

Shane let out a soft laugh. "That was a very long answer to a simple question, Oliver." She clutched his arm a little tighter and leaned a little closer. "I am very much looking forward to learning how my "talents" can be put to use in the Dead Letter Office."

Oliver's cheeks burned at the suggestive nature of her comment. Oh, he thought, she is not going to make this easy.

###

Oliver's early morning brought him to the DLO long before anyone else was due. As he entered, his eyes scanned the space meticulously, making sure everything was in its place. Over the last couple of weeks, the three of them had worked diligently to organize the room. They had grown used to what outsiders might call disarray, but the addition of a new member to their team gave them the nudge needed to bring some semblance of order to the Dead Letter Office. They'd begun filling an area for Shane. Before long, a rather substantial pile of letters and packages requiring more information had been built up. Oliver hoped Ms. McInerney's computer skills would help them resolve their backlog of challenging cases.

His heart raced when the squeak of the DLO doors alerted him that someone was on their way in. Rita bounced in, holding a rainbow of flowers in a small vase.

"Good morning, Oliver."

"Good morning, Rita. Those are lovely flowers."

"Thanks, I got them for Shane for her first day," Rita said as she placed them on top of the workstation that Norman had built for Shane. She ran her fingers over the intricate details etched into the wood surface. "I can't believe Norman was able to build such an interesting desk. He really is amazing, isn't he?"

Oliver smiled, hearing the familiar adoration in Rita's voice that she used whenever touting Norman's talents. "Yes, Norman has been blessed with many unique abilities."

"Yeah, I don't think he realizes how special he is." Rita's voice tapered off into a whisper.

Oliver cast a watchful gaze toward Rita, eyeing her protectively. He had made a conscious effort to stay out of the personal lives of his teammates, but he wasn't blind to the subtle exchanges of looks and words between the two. Anyone, Oliver thought, would notice that Rita had a stronger interest in Norman than as a mere colleague. But Norman was either oblivious to it, or he didn't return her feelings. Oliver suspected the former was more likely to be true.

They turned their heads as the doors banged open. Oliver hoped to catch a glimpse of the familiar figure with flowing blonde hair walking in. However, he knew it would be a while before Shane made it to the DLO, as she had Andrea to contend with first. The feeling of knowing she was in the building, yet not by his side, was like being told not to open your Christmas presents, even though they were right there in front of you, tempting you to tear open the wrapping.

As Norman walked into the room, a warm grin formed on his face when he saw his colleagues. Oliver noticed that Norman's gaze was directed more toward Rita than himself.

"Good morning, Norman. Rita and I were admiring your handiwork and creative solution for Ms. McInerney's workstation."

Norman responded to Oliver's compliment with a single nod of his head, as he always did when he received praise. "Thank you, Oliver." Norman stood by his handiwork, one hand resting possessively on top. "When does Shane get here?"

Oliver carefully brushed a few specks of fine sawdust from the surface. The wood's patina was a result of years of wear and tear, leaving it scarred yet holding a certain charm and character. "She has to meet with Andrea before joining us, but she should be here by 10."

By 10:45, Oliver's eyes were fixed on the office doors, one leg furiously shuddering under his desk. His watch sat open, and the face seemed to stare back at him, taunting him with its slow progression of time. Every tick may as well have been the beat of a bass drum, amplifying his anxious anticipation. He'd lost count of how many times he'd glanced at the doors, waiting for them to open, and his mind couldn't help but wonder if something had happened to her on the way.

Finally, he could wait no longer. "Norman, Rita, I'm going to go see where Ms. McInerney might be." Just as he got to the doors, they flew open, and Shane hurried in, crashing into him.

"Oliver!" She pulled back quickly, her porcelain skin turning pink from her neck to her cheeks. "We really need to stop meeting like this." Her blonde hair tousled around her face, framing it with delicate waves. Her hand rested on the lapel of Oliver's jacket, where it instinctively landed to soften their contact.

Her fingers lingered longer than necessary, tracing the stitching, and smoothing the material back into place. Their eyes locked, and Oliver struggled to breathe. It wasn't the impact of the collision that left him breathless but the closeness it created. "Ahem, Ms. McInerney, it...is nice that you are, ahem, finally able to join us."

"I'm sorry, Oliver." Her words tumbled out. "I expected to be here 45 minutes ago, but Andrea decided I needed to complete the entire new employee orientation. I tried to explain that I was fully aware of USPS protocol, having worked in Washington and Direct Line Operations, but she wouldn't budge. I think she did it on purpose to irritate me, or maybe you. Or maybe both of us."

"Well, you're here now, and that's what matters." Oliver's voice was low and thick as he struggled to break away from her gaze. Her blue eyes pierced through him like none he had ever felt before. He cleared his throat before ushering Shane in, where Norman and Rita waited for them.

Rita rushed toward them. "Hi, Shane! We're so excited to have you here. Well, I'm excited. It will be so nice to have another woman here."

"Thanks, Rita." Turning to Oliver, Shane asked. "Where shall I sit, Mr. O'Toole?"

Norman stepped aside, revealing Shane's desk.

"What's that?" She asked with a hint of hesitation in her voice.

"This is the floating workspace I made for you." Norman presented it with the flair of Vanna White turning letters on the Wheel of Fortune.

Shane eyed it carefully, her hands running over the picture frame that outlined a computer screen. There was even a lamp and a spot for her iPad.

"Um, thank you, Norman. I can see you put a lot of thought into this."

"I was going to order you a new desk, but Andrea said it wasn't in the budget, and any others we had around her were too big." Norman moved it to a spot on the floor that was close to him but angled to face Oliver's desk.

Oliver stood removed from the others, hands behind his back, and observed the interactions between his now three colleagues. He smiled as Shane complimented and thanked Norman for her desk. If she was caught off-guard by the unusual piece, she managed to conceal any signs of surprise and instead showed her appreciation for Norman's efforts.

She'd only been in the DLO for a couple of minutes, and the atmosphere had already shifted. It wasn't just the sweet fragrance of her perfume that filled the room but also her infectious smile and graciousness that radiated from her. In just a few short minutes, she had breathed new life into their sometimes mundane office.

Yes, Oliver thought, this was going to be a good thing.

"Sh..., Ms. McInerney." Oliver caught himself. "I have asked Rita to orient you to our space. After she is finished, I thought the four of us might have lunch together at the Mailbox Grille."

"Why, that sounds perfect, Mr. O'Toole."

Oliver realized he almost called Shane by her first name but stopped himself with a nearly imperceptible head shake. Judging by Shane's emphasis on 'Mr. O'Toole,' he assumed she'd caught his near blunder.

"Well, we should get back to work." They all dispersed, Rita and Shane already chatting up a storm.

The four of them sat in one of the booths at the Mailbox Grille and, after placing their orders, spent several minutes hearing Shane's story of her surprise transfer from Washington, D.C.

Oliver noted she used the same name he'd heard the other night. This Becky person must be rather influential in the USPS, given she was able to arrange Shane's transfer to Denver on such short notice. What was the reason behind her quick and unchallenged move? Hearing Shane tell her story and knowing how easy it was to get her transferred to their DLO, he wondered who this woman was, who seemed to have power at a level even higher than his. It was most certainly a topic of conversation, but one Oliver thought better discussed outside the workplace.

Oliver took a moment between bites of his lunch to observe his team's camaraderie again. The chemistry between the four of them felt right, as though it was meant to be. When he prayed about Shane joining their unit, this is what he prayed for. Their conversation flowed naturally and easily. Shane's laughter erupted at something Norman said, and it was infectious, bringing a smile to his face. He noticed Norman seemed more relaxed than usual. To an outsider, it would seem that they'd all been working together for years.

Oliver had a sizable stack of papers on his desk, and he spent most of the afternoon shuffling them from one side of his desk to the other, hoping to distract himself from Shane's presence. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't focus on the task at hand. The voices of his female colleagues drew his attention across the room. He'd committed to maintaining professionalism with Shane, but he was already finding that more difficult than he expected. Every time she let out a giggle, his head lifted involuntarily to catch the way her face lit up when she laughed. He was going to need to adjust quickly, or, he feared, he would never be able to keep up with his duties.

By five o'clock, he was desperate to let down the facade he'd kept up all day. He hadn't had much opportunity to talk to Shane that afternoon, so once Norman and Rita were gone, he met her at her desk.

Hands clasped behind his back, he asked, "How was your first day, Ms. McInerney?"

As Shane focused on her computer screen, she lifted her gaze, "It was wonderful, Oliver. Rita is really amazing with her photographic memory."

Oliver stared at her lips, having already memorized every curve of them but still wondering how soft they would be against his. The urge to kiss her had come over him many times, but he still held off. He trusted that when the time was right, he would know. "Yes, her talent has been beneficial in our work. Much as I assume your skills will also help us."

As he spoke with confidence, she flashed him the same smile that initially attracted her to him and began putting away her laptop, disconnecting it from her desk.

Oliver gently placed his hand over hers, his thumb making circles on her delicate skin and stopping her progress. "Shane, I hoped you might have dinner with me tonight to commemorate your first day on the job."

"I would love to have dinner with you, Oliver. Where should we go?"

He chuckled. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you could open up your computer and find someplace." Slowly, he slid his hand off hers, allowing her to lift the lid of her laptop. His gaze never wavered. "Someplace far enough away that we don't need to worry about the prying eyes of others." As he kept his focus on her, his heart slammed against his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. He was already thinking of their time after dinner when they might end up on her porch and where, tonight, his insatiable curiosity about kissing Shane might finally come to an end.