(no subject)

The morning after their date, Claire was up before her alarm and in the shower before the sun was up. Hair dried and in a bun, she got dressed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and black boots. She clipped her badge and gun to her belt and drove the distance to the coffee shop for her morning wake-up call.

She didn't really need it. She'd spent the night tossing and turning.

What had she been thinking? Inviting him in after dinner? Offering him a drink? Where had she been thinking that was going to go? Obviously, nowhere good. The polite kiss to her cheek had been the right response, obviously, and she'd stood there as he'd walked back to his car. The perfect gentleman.

She'd gone to bed frustrated. Yes, that frustrated. Why? She had no idea. She didn't even LIKE him that way, right?

Now, she was embarrassed, in more ways than one. To make up for it (or to cover it up), she bought his coffee, too, and set it on his desk before she sat down at her own.

"Morning." There. Simple and easy. No change in their working relationship. It'd just been dinner, no matter how good he smelled this morning. Did he always smell like that?