Author's note: Welcome back to the DLO, where Oliver is bold and Shane—well, Shane is head over heels…even if that hasn't been fully admitted yet. There are just a few weeks until the new SSD movie, so I'll be wrapping this story up in the next couple of weeks. I'm excited to write some married Sholiver so I'm anxious to see their dynamic as a married couple.

As always, thank you to Martha Williamson, Eric Mabius and Kristin Booth for these characters that are so much fun to play with.

Chapter 9

Oliver applied an office-appropriate hint of cologne to the pulse point on his neck and made a last check of his appearance in the mirror. Vanity was not something that he struggled with. He'd been told by the few women he'd dated over the years that he was attractive, and yes, it was a confidence booster, but he didn't attach much significance to it. Even as a mail carrier, his uniform was always clean and pressed, more to honor the institution than to draw attention to himself. Transferring to the DLO enabled him to nurture his love of a good suit. As a little boy, and even now, he idolized his grandfather, who was always well-groomed and neat in his appearance. He could still hear his grandmother's warbly voice as she sent her husband off to work each day. "You're looking very dapper today, Chester." The glow of love and pride in her eyes was something he prayed to find in his own life. He had yet to be very successful at that, at least until now.

Taking quick strides down the long hallway to the DLO, his heart pounded harder against his chest with every step. It was Friday, and it was the end of Shane's first week on their team. He always approached his work with unwavering enthusiasm, but this week, his excitement had been heightened by an overpowering feeling of exhilaration. He knew that once he went through those doors, he would see Shane McInerney, the woman who was more than a coworker. She captivated him, not just with her beauty but with her intelligence and charm. His breath hitched as he peeked through the clouded window of the entrance door and caught his first glimpse of her. She sat at her workstation, back to him. Her hair fell in silky golden waves down her back, teasing him to run his fingers through their softness.

"Good morning, Sh... Oliver stopped when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. "Ah," the exuberance in his voice quickly turned cool. "Rita, Ms. McInerney, how wonderful to see you both...this morning...early." Rita was already at her position in incoming and looked at him with what he could only describe as a knowing smirk. His head jerked to Shane, who continued typing but shot a side-eyed glance at Oliver.

"Good morning, Oliver." Rita turned her attention back to her envelopes. "I still have so many of these letters that need zip codes, and I wanted to make sure I finish them before the weekend."

"Ah, well, I appreciate your dedication to the task." Oliver headed to his desk and removed his jacket, his eyes landing on Shane, who gave him a little shrug and a wink. Rolling up his sleeves, he took his seat and grabbed the closest stack of papers. Rita's presence had thwarted the building exhilaration he'd felt when he arrived, and Oliver exhaled forcefully. His excitement had been dampened, but he found solace in the empathetic smile Shane flashed at him.

"I'm going to go get some coffee," Rita announced. "Can I get you two anything?"

"Skinny vanilla latte for me, thanks," Shane replied.

Oliver looked up, curious that Rita would be making the morning coffee run. That was something Shane usually did. He heard Rita's emphasis on 'you two' and wondered if he was being overly sensitive. Had Rita picked up on the unspoken connection between him and Shane? "I'll have a steamboat Americano. Thank you, Rita."

Once she was gone, Shane wasted no time approaching Oliver's desk. He shuddered as she leaned in from behind his chair and purred into his ear, "Good morning, Mr. O'Toole."

The urge to pull her into his lap was almost too much to resist, but he opted instead to rise and meet her eye-to-eye. "Good morning, Shane." His voice was barely a whisper as he found himself, as he always was, entirely overcome by her beauty.

Though he knew Norman's arrival could interrupt them at any moment, he was feeling rather bold and pulled her to him, bringing their lips together for a brief but heated kiss.

He moved back but couldn't look away from the deep pools of blue that were Shane's eyes. "Sadly, I think that will have to hold us until this evening."

"It's going to be a long day, Oliver." Shane gently slid her hand up and under his lapel, planting a brief kiss on his cheek before making her way back to her desk.

What had happened to him in the last week? From the moment Shane walked in the doors on Monday morning, he seemed to have abandoned all decorum in which he'd always taken great pride. Rita's seemingly innocent comment sparked a feeling of unease in him, causing him to wonder if he and Shane were not as inconspicuous as he thought they were.

Rita returned with the coffee shortly after Norman arrived. She'd had the forethought to bring him a coffee, to which he thanked her by offering a rare, genuine smile. Rita straightened her glasses and gave Norman a sheepish smile of her own. Oliver stood awkwardly between the two and wondered if there was more to their exchange than a simple good morning.

He maneuvered his way out from between Rita and Norman. "Ms. McInerney, I believe you have some new information to share that might bring our letter mystery to its conclusion. Would you share it with us, please?"

The three gathered around Shane's desk as she pulled up her email.

"What have we here, Ms. McInerney?" Oliver leaned in. The enticing combination of Shane's citrusy shampoo and a delicate hint of rose enveloped him, just as it always did whenever he found himself near her, and he allowed himself a deep inhale of the intoxicating scent.

"I signed up for email alerts from the Molly Brown Museum. I got this one last night." Shane clicked her mouse a couple of times, and an email opened to reveal an invitation of sorts. "The museum is holding a special event celebrating Molly Brown's 150th birthday two weeks from tomorrow. And look who the special guest is."

Oliver read through the invitation. "Helen Benziger? Who's she?"

"Margaret Brown's great-granddaughter," Shane said, pride in her discovery evident in her voice. "She'll be at the event."

"Oh my gosh, that's so cool," Rita blurted.

"Oliver, if you call the museum director and explain the situation, they might arrange for us to meet Helen while she's at the event."

"Excellent idea, Ms. McInerney. Can you locate a phone number for me?"

"I already did, Oliver." Shane lifted a piece of paper, her eyes meeting his as she hesitated before finally letting go. His face lit up as he wordlessly conveyed his response to her unspoken message.

###

Shane stepped into her closet and went directly to the black garment bag hanging in the back. She tucked a stray wisp of hair that had fallen from the multitude of hairpins that were holding her intricately woven updo. Her makeup was flawless, emphasizing the blueness of her eyes and the fullness of her lips.

She slowly unzipped the bag, careful not to catch the material. Her skin tingled as fuchsia pink satin peeked out from the bag. She'd bought the dress on a whim several weeks into dance lessons with Oliver, hoping to wear it for the dance showcase. But then Oliver left for Paris, and the dress was relegated to the back of the closet. Even though they danced together in the showcase, Ramon was very particular about what they should wear, and this dress was not part of his vision. The air was still as Shane gently pulled the skirt from the bag. Suddenly, an explosion of pink satin and crinoline burst from the bag. Removing it carefully, she stepped into it and reached behind to zip it. She slipped her feet into a pair of luxurious suede black pumps.

She took a final glimpse in the mirror and did a quick twirl to check her appearance. She stumbled and quickly reached out to grab the back of a nearby chair. Her stomach was also twirling, but she couldn't identify the source of her nervousness. When the doorbell rang, her jitters turned to giddy excitement. She knew why this felt different. Tonight was more than just takeout after work. No, this was a proper date. Oliver had extended the invitation, and she accepted. And there was to be dancing. The promise of being wrapped in Oliver's arms, their bodies moving in unison, made her lightheaded, and she held onto the doorknob and took a moment to center herself.

The evening breeze was cool against her warmed cheeks, but heat flared through the rest of her the moment she caught sight of Oliver on the other side of the door. The connection from her brain to her mouth seemed to have frayed, and she stood genuinely speechless for the first time in her life. Oliver was dressed in a black suit rivaling any tuxedo she'd ever seen. He paired it with a crisp white dress shirt and a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his throat. She was sure if she looked down, she would see her reflection in his shoes. But she didn't want to look down. Her attention was on Oliver in all his incredible splendor. Shane loved the blue suits Oliver favored for work as they were a perfect complement to his eyes. But, tonight, against the backdrop of his black suit, his eyes sparkled like a vivid painting against a dark canvas.

"Good evening, Shane. You look beautiful."

It didn't matter how many times he said it. Oliver's gentle, tender tone when he said her name never failed to send a tremor down her spine. Her face lit up. "Good evening, Oliver."

Oliver handed her a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. The delicate flowers had just begun to open, revealing their soft, pale yellow outer petals and a deeper, more vibrant hue at their center. "These are the last roses of summer," he said.

Shane accepted them, taking a moment to breathe in their sweet scent. "These are beautiful, Oliver. Thank you."

"Your beauty outshines them all," he assured her.

Shane buried her face in the flowers, hiding the flush of pink she felt rising in her cheeks. Some might think Oliver's compliments a bit corny, but she'd never known anyone who could make a simple comment into an unforgettable memory.

She artfully arranged the flowers in a cut crystal vase and made them the centerpiece of her living room coffee table. She turned to thank Oliver again and was pulled into his embrace, his lips finding hers. She swooned into him and felt his arms tighten around her. Her hand instinctively reached for the nape of his neck, her fingers twisting in his hair. Time stood still, and she couldn't say how long they stayed wrapped in each other's arms. As long as he was there to hold her up, she could have lingered in that moment indefinitely.

"Oliver," she whispered reluctantly when she finally took a breath. "Are we going to miss our reservation?"

Oliver put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. "You are right, and if it weren't for the promise of dancing, I would suggest we skip dinner." Oliver leaned in for one more kiss,

He helped Shane into her coat, and she quivered again as he ran his finger along the delicate skin on the back of her neck.

"I very much like how you've done your hair this evening," he whispered into her ear.

She closed her eyes as his words washed over her. She turned to him. "Oliver, we better go now, or I might be the one suggesting we skip dinner." She left him a kiss on his cheek.

"Where are we going tonight," she asked once they were finally in the car and on their way.

"We have a reservation at Montaldo's. Are you familiar with it?"

Her chest tightened when he said the name. She was, in fact, familiar with it, having gone there with Steve the night he tried to convince her she'd made a colossal mistake moving to Denver. Oliver's reaction to her story about Steve earlier in the week had been rocky, and while she didn't want to cast a shadow on their evening by mentioning it, she also didn't want to withhold it from him. What was that called? A lie of omission? She took a deep breath.

"I've actually been there once before," she said breezily, ready to gloss over the subject.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wanted to take you someplace we could experience together for the first time." Oliver's letdown could be heard in the dullness of his voice. "When were you there?"

Shane's eyes widened at his use of a preposition at the end of his sentence. She hadn't meant to upset him, but his disappointment rang clear.

She'd desperately hoped he wouldn't ask, but since he did, she couldn't keep the truth from him. "Do you remember when I told you about Steve coming from DC to convince me of the 'error of my ways,' she asked.

"You were there with Steve?" Surprised irritation laced Oliver's words.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean..." Shane's head swam as she tried to explain. "It was really just half a dinner, not even half a dinner. I left after he spent the entire appetizer course berating me for moving to Denver without discussing it with him." The memory of that evening still burned in her mind. "I finally had enough and got up and left."

"Oh, my goodness. I didn't mean to take you someplace fraught with negative memories. Maybe we should go someplace else."

Shane slid her hand over Oliver's. She could feel the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. "Honestly, Oliver? That seems like a lifetime ago, and I've put the past in the past. I don't even think of it anymore. Tonight, being with you, having dinner, and dancing will be an unforgettable experience, as it should be." It was the closest she could bring herself to telling Oliver that she saw him as her future. She watched his profile, hoping to gauge his reaction, but the interior of the car was dim, and the brief flashes from the streetlights provided only fleeting glimpses. Suddenly, his grip changed, and his thumb caressed her knuckles, flooding her with a wave of reassurance. She had made her point, and he had acknowledged it. Now, she just needed to make sure he believed her.

As they arrived at their table, champagne was already being poured into crystal flutes. Shane's frame of mind was in a fresh place with Oliver by her side. She couldn't hide her amusement when he beat the Maître D' to her chair, chivalrously pulling it out and helping her settle in. He bent down, allowing his warm breath to tickle her ear as he spoke in a soft and intimate tone. "You are the most beautiful woman in the room." He finished the compliment with a quick kiss on the back of her neck.

As she shifted her gaze towards him, she extended her hand to gently cradle his cheek. His firm jawline nestled in the warmth of her touch. "Thank you, Oliver. And you are the most handsome man here. I better be careful, or someone will ask you to dance while I'm using the lady's convenience."

"I don't think there's any risk of that," he reassured her as he settled into his seat across from her. He raised his champagne flute, and she followed suit. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and a small teasing smile tugged at his lips, sending a jolt through her. He tipped his glass until it dinged against hers, "Besides, I only dance with you."

As Shane sipped the chilled champagne, tiny bubbles danced on her tongue, tickling the roof of her mouth as they burst. She closed her eyes, savoring the fruity taste as the crisp, cool liquid smoothly flowed down her throat. "Mmm, this is delicious," she murmured, contentment illuminating her features. She let her eyes settle on the relaxed version of Oliver sitting across from her and was thankful he hadn't dwelled on her admission that she'd been to Montaldo's before. Being here with him was a completely different experience than before, and she felt like she was seeing it for the first time. As she admired the stunning frescos on every wall and the copper-coved ceiling that hung over them, she was whisked away to a charming Italian restaurant one might find on the streets of Florence.

"Oliver, look at the mosaic tile on the dance floor. Isn't it beautiful?"

Oliver rose from his chair. "It will be even lovelier with you on it." He extended his hand, "May I have this dance?"

She took his hand, and he led her to the dance floor. He wrapped one hand firmly around her waist while the other brought her hand to rest over his heart. The thrill Shane experienced when they first danced together had not faded over time. If anything, it was more heightened each time Oliver took her in his arms. She chuckled, remembering Ramon's lesson on how dance is a unique form of intimacy, pushing their embrace closer. But they no longer danced like they were under Ramon's watchful tutelage, and they no longer needed him to encourage their closeness. They glided effortlessly around the floor, flowing through the steps and movements in a way that only came from a deep understanding and trust in your dance partner. Instead of struggling to keep up with the steps, their focus now was only on each other. Shane's gaze became fixed on Oliver as he recited the lyrics to the music in soothing, harmonious tones. She became mesmerized by the way his lips moved, knowing their softness and how perfectly they fit with hers.

"The water is wide, I can't cross over, and neither have I wings to fly. Build me a boat that can carry two." Oliver's gaze captured her attention and their eyes met. "And both shall row, my love and I."

Shane gasped and clumsily tripped, something she hadn't done since the early days of their lessons together. "I'm so sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention," she mumbled, her eyes darting, wondering if she'd drawn attention to them.

Oliver gently drew Shane closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around her to provide support. "Shane, are you okay?"

"Uh, I'm fine. I'm so sorry. I just..." Shane quickly straightened herself.

They quickly got back into rhythm and, in moments, had made a slow swath across the dance floor. "What were you going to say?" Oliver asked once they were back into an easy rhythm.

"I'm sorry?" She saw the mischievous curve of his lips.

"When you tripped, you said you just, but then you stopped. What were you going to say?"

The way Oliver gazed at her and uttered the words "my love and I" had sent all her senses into overdrive, creating a collision that bore itself out with her sudden awkwardness on the dance floor. Dare she share tell him? Maybe he was simply finishing the words to the song. But if that were the case, why did he give her such an intense look when he spoke the words?

"It's nothing. Really."

Shane was relieved when Oliver led her back to their table. Two waiters, each with a microphone, took to the center of the dance floor.

"What's this, I wonder?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, they have singing waiters who perform." Shane stopped cold, her eyes avoiding Oliver's. "At least that's what it looks like it could be." She could kick herself for drawing Oliver's attention back to the fact that she'd been here with Steve.

He acknowledged her with a swift, almost imperceptible nod of his head, and she couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to have lost a bit of the glimmer she'd seemed earlier.

Shane breathed a sigh of relief when the music started, and she saw Oliver's head gently swaying in rhythm with the jazzy music. When the servers began singing and dancing, it was apparent they were well-seasoned performers.

"I've got you under my skin. I've got you deep in the heart of me, so deep in my heart that you're really a part of me." The performers threw in a few simple dance steps, but Shane thought they didn't hold a candle to her and Oliver's moves.

Shane put her hand on her fluttering stomach as the lyrics of the song enveloped her, perfectly mirroring her feelings for Oliver. There were days she had an overwhelming urge to shout about their relationship from the rooftops, but she knew he wasn't ready for that, and honestly, she wasn't prepared to share what they had with the world either.

"I've got you under my skin. I tried so not to give in. I said to myself, 'This affair never will go so well. But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well I've got you under my skin."

She sipped the wine Oliver had poured for her. Resting her hand on the table, her fingers tapped to the beat of the music. Her attention remained fixed on the performers, leaving her completely unprepared when Oliver slid his hand across and intertwined their fingers. She turned her attention to him, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. A gradual but unmistakable smile unfurled across her face. The glint of excitement returned to Oliver's eyes, filling her with a sense of renewed hope.

Once the performance was over Shane probed. "What did you think of the singing, Oliver?"

Oliver reached out, inviting her other hand to join his. The private bubble they created for themselves was filled with a charged energy that buzzed between them. Shane nervously bit her lip as she leaned in, waiting for him to share his thoughts.

"The song they chose to perform tonight was quite remarkable," he finally commented, his voice low and husky.

As Shane studied his face, she tried to unravel the meaning behind his statement. What she found were softened features, a faint smile playing on his lips, and eyes that penetrated so deeply that she felt them in her soul. "Why is that?" she asked.

Oliver lifted Shane's hand to his lips. "Because the lyrics perfectly express how I feel about you."

Shane's lips parted, and she wasn't sure if she could take a breath, his words had completely knocked the air out of her. Had she heard him correctly?

The inconvenient timing of their food's arrival disrupted her response and prevented her from getting clarification of his comment. Despite her burning curiosity, she decided to hold off on furthering this discussion until they were in private. It seemed the perfect porch swing conversation.

As they dined, she turned the conversation to a topic she'd wanted to discuss with Oliver all week.

"Oliver, what do you think is going on between Norman and Rita?"

Oliver looked surprised. "Norman and Rita? Why, nothing of which I am aware."

"Oliver," she laughed. "How can you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

Shane couldn't tell if his ignorance was genuine or feigned. "The furtive glances? Norman's nervousness whenever he's within two feet of Rita? The way Rita stands precariously close to Norman when he's studying a letter?" She could continue to point out hints at something between their coworkers. "Really, Oliver, how can you not see it?"

Oliver wiped his mouth and put down his napkin. "I supposed I've just never paid much attention to it."

Shane's eyes rolled. "Well, I have. From where I sit, I can see both of them, and it's evident that there is a strong mutual interest between them, but they both seem hesitant to acknowledge their feelings."

"Ms. McInerney, I have never encouraged inter-office relationships."

"Oliver!" Shane shook her head, holding back a chuckle. "Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black?"

Oliver turned his head away, hiding his reaction. Turning back, Shane watched him intently, her eyebrows raised.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that argument could be made, but no one is aware that you and I are..." Oliver's hands started waving in front of him.

When Oliver started using his hands to make a point, Shane knew it was really his way of working through his thoughts and expressing himself.

Leaning in, Shane pushed. "That we are?"

"Well, that we are a thing," he finally said.

Hearing him put a label on what they had both thrilled and humored her, and she couldn't hold in her laughter. "What does that mean, Oliver?"

Oliver let out a sigh and chuckled before locking eyes with her and responding. "It means…that I've got you under my skin."