"Nick and I strolled through the grocery store with two shopping carts. We picked items off the shelves in between talks of work, food, our favorite television shows, and yesterday's rendezvous.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," he said as we reached the freezer isle.

I grabbed a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream. "You better," I warned.

He closer to me where only I could hear. "Or what?" he whispered seductively.

It occurred to me I had yet to see him in his FBI uniform. I drifted into a daydream, imagining Nick in what I assumed an FBI agent wears, based on what I'd seen on TV.

"Carrie," he interrupted my thoughts. "Don't drool in public."

I smacked his arm playfully, continuing down the aisle.

When we'd finished adding to our carts, we checked out, rather quickly I might add, due to the cashier trying to flirt with Nick. I wanted to slap that stupid smile right off her underage face. To my surprise, Nick paid for my groceries and then proceeded to carry all my sacks to his car.

"Can you even fit all this in there?" I asked, staring at his small car.

"It may be basically a sports car but that doesn't mean it can't hold a load," Nick said, placing his bags in the trunk and mine in the backseat.

In the early morning light, he looked younger than he was. He appeared more carefree with his gleeful smile. I watched the cool morning breeze toss his hair around, blushing and looking away when he caught me staring.

"What did I say about drooling in public?" he chuckled.

"I can't help it that you're so hot."

We headed back to my house to put away the groceries. I put up the food while Nick made spaghetti for breakfast.

"Where'd you learn to be such a good cook?" I asked, impressed with the taste of his spaghetti. He'd added some special concoction of seasonings but refused to tell me the secret recipe.

"My grandma taught me," he smiled. "She used to come hang out with me every day after I got home from school cause my parents were always working. She'd make dinner for them a lot of times and teach me how to make whatever she was making. It was fun. I miss her."

"Where is she now?" I asked.

"She moved to Florida a few years ago," he said, twirling his fork in the pasta. "I've only seen her once since then. I've been so busy with work that it makes it near impossible to travel for leisure when I'm always traveling for work."

A thought crossed my mind and I looked up from my food with a frown. "Are you not here permanently?"

Nick sighed, looking out the window. "I'm here until we close this case but after that I'm sure they'll send me somewhere else across the country or bring me back to DC. One or the other."

"Can't you request to stay here?"

"I could," he said, slouching back in his seat. "But they probably wouldn't go for it. I'm still pretty new to this job so I do what my superiors tell me and that's about it. I don't really get a say in how shit goes."

I imagined having to fly across the country every weekend to visit Nick. Once in a while was okay. I didn't mind that if he was out of town off and on. But having to live in two different places several hundred miles apart, maybe even a couple thousand miles apart sounded like such a hassle to me. I wanted the luxury of seeing Nick every day. I didn't want to have to call him and ask if I could fly out to see him over the weekend. It just wasn't ideal.

"What's going to happen between us when you leave?" I frowned, setting my fork down.

Nick released a deep breath, looking at me sympathetically. "I can't make any promises. I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out though."

I didn't like that answer. I wanted to know what to expect. I wanted to know what was going to happen. I needed to invest in a crystal ball or something. Maybe hire a personal fortuneteller.

"Let's just take it day by day," Nick said with a small smile, continuing to eat his spaghetti.

Four hours later I was looking over the damage at Regina Evans' house. She'd called me thirty minutes before when Nick and I had been watching a movie. When I answered the phone, Regina was crying and I could barely understand a word she was saying. Though I told Nick he didn't need to come, he went with me to Regina's anyway.

When I pulled up outside her house I could barely find a place to park due to the police cars surrounding her property. There were two in the driveway and two on the street. I ended up parking across the street in front of a neighbor's house. Upon entering the home, Nick and I saw furniture knocked over, clothing tossed everywhere and dishes broken all over the kitchen floor.

"You guys can't be in here," a big burly cop said to us, pointing toward the door for us to leave.

"I'm Miss Evans' attorney," I said. "She called me."

"And who are you?" he asked Nick, glaring at him.

Nick flashed his badge, answering smoothly. "FBI."

The officer didn't appear too thrilled that the feds were on the scene. He rolled his eyes, walking to another part of the house.

Regina was sitting on the couch, crying against another officer's arm as he tried to take her statement.

"Regina, what happened?" I asked, taking a seat beside her.

Nick stood off to the side taking in the disarray.

"He was here," she sobbed against the young cop next to her who looked at me with sad eyes. "Jared was here when I got back from my yoga class."

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked, placing a comforting hand over hers. "I can just read the statement if you don't want to talk."

"I'll put this in tonight and you'll have to pick up a copy probably Tuesday or Wednesday," the officer said, gesturing to his clipboard with Regina's statement.

"I don't have until Tuesday or Wednesday," I explained. "Monday's her hearing."

"I can't talk about this," Regina burst into tears again, hugging the cop's arm. "I can't do this."

"I'm sorry ma'am," he started apologizing, trying to stand up but Regina wouldn't let go of his arm.

Nick finally spoke up, flashing his badge to this officer as well. "I think you can afford to let Miss Evans' attorney read the statement before you leave."

"FBI isn't on this case," he responded, shaking his head no.

"I can get the Bureau on it," Nick retorted.

The officer sighed in defeat, handing me the clipboard. I quickly skimmed over Regina's shaky handwriting at the beginning, followed by the notes the cop had jotted down. According to her statement, Regina had come home to find her front door wide open and her ex, Jared, sitting at the dining room table waiting for her. After she told him multiple times to get out, it turned physical and Jared began chasing Regina around the house, throwing dishware at her, pushing over furniture, and wrecking the house. She locked herself in the bathroom until he left, calling the police.

I felt horrible for Regina. I was determined to get this protective order for her no matter what. People like Jared didn't need to be roaming the streets. He deserved to be in prison.

"Is she going to press charges?" I asked the officer.

He nodded. "Once we track him down he'll go in for vandalism, assault and battery, and a few other charges I intend to tack on."

I spent the next half hour taking pictures of the scene to show the judge if necessary, and talking to Regina about what to expect the next day. I was itching to get in that courtroom. I knew we could get the thirty-day emergency protective order but then we'd have to try again to convince the judge it was needed when the issue was presented in a follow-up hearing where Jared would most likely be present. The follow-up gave the other party the opportunity to object and convince the judge of their innocence. Usually the judge sided with the person wanting a protective order but there were also plenty of times they didn't. Those times pissed me off.

I let Nick drive us back to my house while I sat in the passenger seat making notes so I could type up another page to add to Regina's case file the next day. Nick glanced at my scribbled writing off and on. He turned the radio on low and then turned it off a few minutes later. I heard him sigh a couple times, sounding frustrated.

"Is something bothering you?" I asked, concerned.

He didn't take his eyes off the traffic ahead. "Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"That guy you're trying to help Regina get a protective order against..." he trailed off.

"Jared."

"He just reminds me of someone," Nick shook his head, dismissing the thought.

"Who?"

I didn't receive an answer.

We arrived at my house and Nick instantly hopped out of the vehicle.

"Nick, what's bothering you?" I blocked him from walking to the porch.

He sighed dramatically, pushing his hair back. "I'm just sick of guys like that getting away with shit. I'm supposed to make sure they get put away but half the time they find some slick attorney who makes deals under the table and they walk free like they never hurt a fucking fly in their life. They'll wait a couple weeks, maybe a couple months, for everyone to stop eyeing them, and then when they think the coast is clear, they're back at it again!"

Nick looked outraged and I completely understood why.

"I know," I said, hugging him, hoping that would help him relax.

"It sickens me that so many people who deserve to be in prison get to walk the streets every day just because some sleazy attorney convinced a jury they were innocent or a judge bought a lie they told them," Nick groaned. "Half the time, I hate the judicial system."

Nick and I spent the rest of the day in my room enjoying a lazy Sunday. We'd been lying on the bed for two and a half hours, talking and listening to music. I'd been boring Nick with country music, making him complain and demand rock. Somehow that turned into him imitating Bruce Springsteen.

"What do you see yourself doing in five years? How do you see your life?" I asked Nick, staring at the spinning ceiling fan.

He turned his head to look at me with a cheesy smile. He looked so innocent lying against my mountain of pillows, his hair falling in his face.

"I'll probably still be with the Bureau," he said. "I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing."

"Is that all?"

"Hopefully I'll be married," he smiled lazily and rested a warm hand on my arm as he rolled over on his side.

"You?" I laughed softly, making a goofy face at him. "I hope she owns a plunger and a lot of disinfectant spray."

Nick started laughing. "Do you?"

"I do."

I laughed at his attempt at pouting, sticking out his lower lip and making the puppy dog eyes. He took my amusement as an invitation to roll over on top of me, which promptly shut me up.

"I like you on your back," Nick smirked, looking down at me, his bangs falling across my forehead. "You should be under me more often."

"Oh?" I asked, sliding my hands down his sides. "Because I think I prefer you on yours."

I watched Nick's adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. I smirked as if that were the sign of victory for me.

"Maybe we'll have to test that theory sometime," he breathed, staring into my eyes.

I nodded slowly. "Maybe."

He leaned down, kissing me softly. My heart was practically dancing with excitement when I felt him smile into the kiss.

"Is there any chance you can make this investigation drag out longer? Or catch another case in Chicago?" I asked when he pulled back. "Because I don't want you to leave any time soon."

I remembered our conversation earlier in the day about the FBI most likely sending Nick elsewhere when this investigation was over. I hated the thought of him leaving. As much as I wanted to see Derek get his ass kicked by the law, I hoped it would take a while just so I could spend more time with Nick.

This felt like something I needed to talk to Monica about over some wine and ice cream during our next girls' night.

"I can't really drag it out," Nick sighed, rolling off of me. "But I can try to stay in Chicago. Like I said, I can request to stay here. I doubt they'll go for it, but I can always give it a shot."

"Please," I said, crossing my fingers, which earned a small chuckle from him.

"I'll try," he smiled, kissing me again.

Suddenly my phone started ringing, startling us both. I jumped at the abrupt sound, grabbing it from the nightstand beside me.

"Oh, no," I groaned, instantly irritated.

Nick looked concerned, placing a hand on my thigh. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, answering the phone. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?" Derek's voice came through the speaker.

"Actually, it wasn't bitchy enough," I retorted, watching Nick's expression becoming angry as he glared at my phone.

"I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to get dinner tonight," he said as if there was absolutely nothing weird or wrong with that.

"You're joking right?" I frowned. "After your parade of women, I think it's pretty clear where we stand now."

"Does that mean you're not going to have dinner with me?" Derek asked, faking a sad voice. "I thought we could make up and talk everything out."

"Carrie's already got dinner plans," Nick said, snatching the phone from my hand. "With me."

As soon as Derek heard Nick's voice, the call ended. I groaned, covering my face with my hands as Nick leaned over me, setting my phone back on the nightstand.

"What?" he asked softly, resting a hand on my back.

"I can't believe I ever saw anything in that man," I shook my head. "I can't believe I wasted three years on him. I can't believe I almost fucking married the bastard. Dear god, am I that stupid?"

Nick cracked a grin, rubbing my back. "No. You're not stupid at all. He just had you fooled. That's on him, not you."

"How do you know?" I frowned. "I may be a complete idiot. Probably anyone else would have figured it out before I did. It took an FBI investigation to knock some sense into me."

"How do I know?" he repeated my question, sliding his hand further down my back.

I nodded, wiping my eyes and trying to avoid any tears making an appearance.

"Because I've been through it too," he said softly.

I looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"This girl I dated awhile back," he sighed, flopping back against the pillows. "I almost asked Jeannette to marry me. We'd been together for like two years."

"What happened?"

"It turned out she was fucking my best friend behind my back," he shrugged, staring at the ceiling. "Then I found out it wasn't just him. She'd been banging everyone since before we even got together and she didn't think a relationship was any reason to stop. I still have no idea how many guys she cheated on me with. I think there were a couple girls too. I don't know. But just because someone has you fooled into thinking they're your perfect match doesn't make you an idiot for taking however long to figure it out."

"Derek and Jeannette would be perfect for each other," I said.

Nick chuckled, kissing my forehead. "Yeah. I could see that."