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Laurie tells her brother-in-law more

as his attention was snared again by the board, "Please?"

The kitchen was neat. No dirty dishes in the sink, no food left out or drying on the stove. It didn't look like the stereotypical kitchen of a single man. In the dish dryer next to the sink was a single glass and a coffee cup. No coffee maker on the counter, which meant he either drank instant or he put it away when he was done with it.

She cringed as the image of her kitchen came to mind. It was tiny and cramped and she hadn't had much of a chance to move in since she started working. She was still living out of boxes and suitcases, cursing when she couldn't find things that she wanted and vowing that she would take care of it on her next day off. It never happened.

She found the right cupboard and was amazed again by the fact that all of his dishes, while not matching, were of good quality and complementing colors which would look good together on a dinner table. His glassware matched and wasn't the jumble of freebee stuff like what she owned. She grabbed two plates, a couple of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and opened his fridge to get the drinks.

Even here he was a surprise. No junk food boxes and bags. And it was filled with actual food. Fruits and vegetable were in the see through drawers, lunch meat was wrapped up in plastic and in another drawer. There were some leftovers but they weren't takeout. Another piece to add to the puzzle that was Nick Saint.

She grabbed his soda, taking a bottle of water for herself and took her load back to the dining room. Inside she was a quivering mess trying to steal herself to prove that she was tough enough to look at these photos and to discuss traumatic and violent death as if she dealt with it on a daily basis. Outside she was calm and in control. And she would stay that way or die trying, she vowed.

He was still standing where she had left him, staring at the pictures. It stole into her that he cared enough about the victims to lose himself in thought. She had read about his career. It was hard not to. He had been instrumental in putting away a lot of bad guys in the past twelve years, earning himself numerous awards and commendations. He was tough on those he worked with but she knew he was tougher with himself. He took failure very personally.

She sat the plates down hard enough to make a resounding thump on the huge table, effectively drawing him away from the board and back into the present with her.

"Sorry," he flushed at having been caught. "I just keep thinking that if I stare at them long enough, they'll tell me what I need to know."

Michelle made no comment, separating the plates and setting his next to him before grabbing the box of pizza. Hero worship was going to kill her. Except it wasn't feeling like hero worship any more. Just seeing that flush on his face, that little boy look at having been caught, had started a tingle in places that she wasn't going to tingle. No tingling allowed. She should get a tee shirt printed.

She opened the box, ready to grab a small slice and eat it as a token. But the aroma of hot gooey cheese, tomatoes and spices infiltrated her nose and headed straight for her stomach. It gurgled loudly, embarrassing her as it reminded her that she hadn't made time for breakfast this morning before leaving for work some seven hours ago. She had been way too nervous, finally having built up the courage to storm his office.

Nick laughed at her blush and pulled loose a large slice, sliding it onto her plate as melted cheese stringed behind it.

"Eat, we'll work after. I can't have you passing out from hunger on me." He pulled loose another piece and took a huge bite before sitting it on his plate. "I have a running account with these guys," he motioned towards the box with his free hand. "Best pizza in the area that I've been able to find."

The token slice turned into three as Nick kept her plate full and subtly coerced her into relaxing with him.

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