"She slept on your chest."

"You don't have to make it sound so strange."

"It is! She shoudn't have been back at your house in the first place! What if she had been out to kill you?"

"If she wanted me dead, I'm sure she could have done it more elegantly than waiting for me to fall asleep and then start hacking away."

"You never know. What if she had turned out to be a serial killer or a clingy psycho?"

"Bam, I'm right beside you and Carly hasn't been in the States for at least six years. She's not psychotic."

"You think she hasn't been in the States for six years."

"I know. Because I looked."

"Oh really?"

"I didn't ask for your sarcasm. Carly Lee booked a full flight from Los Angeles to Milan, Italy, where she stayed in her summer home for a period of eight months."

" . . . You really did track her. Ew. Mark was right. You should not be unsupervised. This is obsessive."

"Maybe."

"Nah, no maybe about it. It totally is. You stalked her electronically across the world."

" . . . "

"Oh God, you did more than that, didn't you?"

"I . . . may have a couple of international friends in INTERPOL."

"You ing creep."

"No need for name calling."

"Whatever. We're not sharing rooms and for that I can only be grateful. I have a feeling that your little buddy-buddy nap with her wasn't the last you seen of her."

"Of course not. She became one of my key witnesses. I couldn't let someone with as much information was her get loose or lose contact with me when she was so vital."

"Uh-huh."

"You're free to remember that you weren't invited and you asked me about this."

"I'm learning a lot about you through this I'd really rather not know. It'll be juicy to spread around the station when we get back, though."

"Whatever blows up your skirt. The next time I seen Carly was after the Orestia case closed and half the family was behind bars."

Mark had insisted that they go drinking when the Orestia case closed. 

"I don't like drinking." Jaebum insisted, but let the older man drag him to some upbeat dance club.

"Then don't drink. Dance. Find yourself some hot little thing to take home." Mark winked. "You deserve it."

"You're an idiot, Mark. And they let you train rookies?"

"Correction, I let him train rookies." Youngjae cut in, pushing between them and swiftly ordering a gin and tonic. "And despite being a , Mark is good at his job. He's also right that congratulations are in order."

Jaebum ducked his head at the praise. 

"Go on. Get out there and dance." Youngjae urged. "I know you can, even if you don't think so."

"But I don't want to. I just want to sleep on my couch a little." Jaebum wasn't normally like this, but his voice was bordering on a whine.

"You're so boring." Mark grouched.

"You make it sound like dancing was an option." Youngjae raised an eyebrow and grabbed his friend's shoulder, shoving him bodily into the crowd. 

Immediately taken in my the mess of writhing bodies and bass-heavy music, Jaebum didn't bother to try and fight his way back out. Youngjae and Mark wouldn't let him back at the table if he came back anyway, just push him back out into the crowd. 

There was just enough light on the dance floor to refract off all the inexpensive jewelry and expensive clothes, perfumes and colognes heavy and choking in the air. He was quick to fall into the rhythm of the dance floor, ing and grinding along with the other bodies. He'd always liked dancing - had done it alot back in his younger years in Korea with a friend who was doing idol training. He had kept up with the training regimen that he'd done with his friend and had managed to maintain and retain not only his body strength, but his flexibility. The low lights and flashing colours made him feel dizzy, like he was caught up at a concert. He started singing along as he danced, not even noticing himself fall completely into the song, oblivious to everything and anything else around him. Mark and Youngjae might have even come by to check on him, but he was far from paying attention to anyone. 

Until silver heels caught his eye.

His eyes followed the sleek shoe up the short, powerful legs attached to them, tracing the muscular and shapely torso, jacked arms up to the beautiful, wide-eyed face of Carly Lee. She was smiling at him - like she always did - and stepped into the little bubble he'd made on the dance floor.

"I didn't know anyone could look so good dancing." She commented over the sound of the music, her black, strapless sequin dress giving off the occasional silver glitter. 

"Now you do." He replied.

She stepped into the circle of his arms, pulling them around the back of her waist. The song switched but it didn't really matter. It was just as fast, just as heady, and he didn't think anything of it when he pulled her close and they started to dance together. 

Under all the layers of jackets and suits, he would have never guessed she looked like this. She seemed to be made of pure muscle and flexibility, the low and sporatic lighting highlighting the divots in her flesh even more, especially on the one side, where the dress was cut open to show off a tantilizing portion of her stomach - just a tease - which was ribbed with strong ab muscles. He wouldn't have ever expected her to be to sturdy, so physically strong and he found it incredibily enticing. She was a surprise at every turn and he wanted nothing more than to learn all of her, inside and out. It felt like a craving, deep in his chest and radiating down his stomach. 

They lost themselves to the bump and grind of this club, hands roaming everywhere and chins and lips dragged across open skin. They seemed to have an explicit line - even with their lips close enough to breathe the same oxygen, they didn't kiss. They didn't kiss anywhere, only hasty nuzzles and borderline breathing. The look in her eyes said it all - there was a purposeful distance there, a professional distance that stopped the free trade of emotions and he knew it was for the better. He didn't need to get entangled with her more than he was already. Hell, he probably shouldn't be on the dance floor with him. If someone knew what they were looking for, they could easily set this situation up as , police abusing their power and a misapplication of authority.

"Fancy meeting you here." He knew it was far too long after she'd joined him for the question to be appropriate, but he only just now thought of it, as the music changed to something else that was slower and nothing to really dance to. He took her hand, leading her off the floor in the opposite direction of his friends. "You here alone?"

She puffed some hair out of her face. "I'm allowed to go to whatever club I feel like, thanks. And yes, I happen to be so."

He sat them down on a couch, out of the way of the music, mostly. "I'm aware. I'm just curious at how you happen be in the same place as me the one time I would ever think of coming here."

"Mark?"

His eyes narrowed playfully. "How did you know he's here?"

"I figured he would be the one because he texts me to complain about you being a bore." She giggled. "i would think he's also the only person actually able to drag you out to a club, of all things."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"You seem like a much calmer person than this kind of place." She replied, quite reasonably. "We've been working together a lot over these last, what, eight months? We always meet at your house, your office or a hole-in-the-wall pub. Though, I must say, your dance skills are pretty good."

He snorted. "Just pretty good?"

"Do you have something up your sleeve that I didn't see?"

"How about the fact I'm a b-boy?"

fell open. "No ."

He smirked. "I absolutely am."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises." She winked. Without thinking, he threw his arm over her shoulder and she didn't seem to consider it too much when she leant into him. 

"And what about you?"

"Me?"

"Everyone has a secret talent. Which is yours?"

"Well . . . " She looked back off onto the dance floor, her thinking expression unintentionally pouty. "I do fencing."

"Fencing? Like the sport?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Been doing it since childhood. I always liked it. I'm actually qualified for to be part of an Olympic level fencing team."

He pulled back to look down at her, eyes wide. Her expression was deceptively innocent, big eyes getting bigger and plump lips still lingering around a pout. "You're an Olympic-level athlete and you never mentioned that?"

"You never told me you're a b-boy either." She countered. 

Lights flared above as the music picked up again and it shone over the thick, corded muscle of her shoulder. Suddenly, all of that strength made so much sense. "To be fair, mine is far less impressive."

She shrugged. "Depends on how you see it. I just do fencing and happen to be good at it. I'd do fencing even if I was bad. You could get yourself seriously hurt if you don't know what you're doing."

His gaze drifted away shyly. "You say that like I didn't."

"What did you do? Was it recent?" 

He couldn't keep back the self-deprecitive laugh that rose up at her concern. "I herniated a spinal disk back when I wasn't as good."

"Oh my God! Are you okay now?"

"Oh yeah. It healed good and proper years ago. No need to worry." He winked at her and she playfully hit his arm.

Long nights lead to long mornings and Jaebum hadn't experienced one in a while. 

He remembered seeing and dancing with Carly, remembered talking to her for quite some time before Mark and Youngjae caught up with them and convinced them to start doing shots. After that, he thought he might have danced with Carly more? And maybe Mark did too and he wound up with his arms wrapped around Youngjae, muttering incoherently?

"I'm probably fired."

"It wasn't that bad."

Jaebum was laying across the width of his bed, still fully clothed from the night before and reeking of the alcohol in his skin. He was going to break out something terrible in the next couple of days. Across his chest, once more, was Carly, her ear over his heart. 

"We have to stop waking up like this."

"Fully clothed?"

"No, together."

"Oh. But and alone is fine?"

"I'll leave that up to you."

They were both silent for a while and he wans't really sure when he fell asleep again, just that when he woke up, Carly was gone. 

"All I want to hear is that you didn't sleep with her." Youngjae said as soon as Jaebum walked into his office. 

"I woke up fully clothed, so if I did, I'm very talented."

Youngjae snorted and smirked. "Make sure to tell that to Mark, too. I'm sure he's just minutes away from reciting a capade that neither happened nor he was in attendance for."

"Thanks. I owe you."

"Just control yourself better."

He didn't reply because when it came to Carly, what really was control?