Morning came too soon, and Bo rolled out of the bed feeling groggy and sluggish. Best to put blonde, leggy, nerdy scientists out of your mind, she told herself. We have nothing in common, and… she looked in the bathroom mirror, noting her bedraggled appearance, I don't really need a reason. Catching a glance of the clock, she hurried into the shower stall.

At quarter to 8 she walked passed her assistant's desk into her office. Not as early as she hopped to get in, but everything seemed to be taking extra-long time this morning. She took a sip from her coffee cup, noting that a Grande container was already nearly drained and debated if she should drink any more on an empty stomach.

Her assistant trailed into her office after her, a tablet in hand.

"There are several urgent emails that require your attention right away, I flagged them for you. Also, your 11:30 AM meeting with Director of Technology has been rescheduled for 3 this afternoon – they were running a patch on the system during off hours and something went wrong. They are still troubleshooting, and Director wanted to stay around until they are in the clear, so he asked to reschedule for this afternoon." Mark reported crisply.

"Sure, that's fine. Anything else?"

Before her assistant could answer, her cell phone rang, and she looked at display, surprised to see a call from Fitz. She answered the call, but addressed her assistant before greeting her PI.

"Mark, I need to take this, I'll let you know when I'm through."

Her assistant nodded and left the office, closing the door behind him.

"Fitz, I must say you exceeded my expectations if you have a report so quickly." She said into the phone.

The older man tsked at his client's impatience. "Not a full report yet, but I came across something that was time-sensitive."

"I'm listening." Bo opened a blank message window on her screen, ready to take notes.

"The young lady you had me look into is going to a concert tonight. It's at some seedy club called 'The Sewer Crocodile', in the downtown district."

"Never heard of it," Bo said after searching her memory and making a note in a message with a club name.

"I'm not surprised. Are you interested in the details?"

"Yes, of course." Bo confirmed, eager. "Can you score me some tickets?"

"Sure, how many? If you do decide to go, bring a buddy with you. This place gets a little wild." Fitz advised.

Bo thought about it for a second. Then decided that she wouldn't let Hale go into a place where he'll be a fish out of water all by himself. "Three. Can you manage it?"

"No problem, I'll messenger them over this afternoon." The older man assured her. "The doors open at 9, show starts at 10. Some grunge band called 'Full Metal Jacket'. Saw her buy the tickets last night off of some teenager in ripped jeans and a tie dye shirt. Thought we got done with that silliness in the 90s."

"Got it," Bo said, deciding not to comment on the clothing. If Hale ever brought this girl home to meet his parents, they would flip. But that wouldn't be her problem. "Anything on the girl herself?"

"Just the prelims. She's 22, born in Canada, but her parents are both immigrants from a former soviet bloc; still running down the details. She doesn't own anything of value. Her mail gets delivered to a mailbox, so I think she shares or sublets an apartment. She graduated high school 4 years ago and had a few odd jobs since then. She probably pays for everything with cash, because she has no credit history whatsoever, and no bank accounts that are in her name, but I'm still checking on that too – I think she went by a different last name at some point." Fitz reported.

"God, I hope she's not some kind of a Russian spy." Bo lamented.

"If she is, she's not hiding it very well." Fitz assured her. "The messenger business is run by two brothers who are some distant cousins of hers, and they don't do anything to hide their Russian origin."

"So they are more like a Russian mafia than Russian spies. Fantastic." Bo grumbled. "Thanks, Fitz. Call me when you have more." She said, closing the connection.

She called Mark back into her office and spent the next two hours resolving work issues that demanded her attention. When all the pressing tasks were done, she sent a quick note to Hale to let him know he now had plans for tonight, and provided some suggestions for what he should be wearing. The only thing left to decide was who'll be her date for the evening.

Dyson, who was a cop, and a big, burly guy, would be the best choice for a place that can get rowdy, but the idea was making her stomach churn unpleasantly for some reason. Last time she felt this icky was when she took a bite from a poison mushroom on a dare from a schoolmate. It was as if she developed an allergy to him overnight, and what seemed sexy and charming 24 hours ago, now appeared ham-fisted and greasy. Of course, it was also possible that any queasiness she experienced was due to all the coffee she drank on the empty stomach that morning.

The worst choice for this outing would be Lauren. The woman was a self-admitted pacifist, who, despite a fairly justified arachnophobia (she had worked in parts of the world where itsy-bitsy spiders where deathly poisonous), would carefully remove any bugs she found in her home and carry them outside posthaste – because if she didn't do it fast, she'd pass out from hyperventilating. Yet, when she thought about walking into the club with Lauren, her gut stayed calm.

Well, thank god I never limited my choices, she thought morosely, and proceeded to call a number of past lovers and current acquaintances. Half an hour later, she slammed the phone down. Sure it was a short notice, but Bo couldn't believe that none of the people she called would give her a firm Yes for the evening. Grinding her teeth, she dialed the one number she was hoping to avoid calling. Cruel fate arranged for Dyson to be absolutely free this evening, and of course he would be happy to go with his girl to a dorky grunge concert.

Bo was no one's girl, but neither did she want to worry about her own back while watching Hale's. Getting a firm grip on her feelings, and punching herself in the stomach for good measure, she made arrangements to meet Dyson at her place and head over to the club together. They would meet Hale at the Crocodile at 9 and send him inside, then stay and wait for Kenzi to show up before following her in and setting up some kind of a scene that would allow her to notice Hale.

When she ended that call, she sat staring out her window for a few minutes. Then she dialed another number, wondering all the while if she was making a mistake.

"Dr Lewis." The blonde answered the phone. She sounded a bit distracted, and Bo wondered if she looked at the caller ID before picking up.

"Lauren, it's Bo."

"Oh! Bo! Hi. Yes. What?" Lauren babbled excitedly, if a bit inarticulately.

"Did I interrupt something?" Bo asked, chuckling.

"I am on a Skype call with my lab assistants. There are several projects that are ongoing, and I wanted to get progress notes and…" Lauren stopped herself midsentence, knowing she was oversharing. She looked at her computer screen and saw her coworkers staring at her with open disbelief. Dr. Lauren Lewis did not babble. Agitated, she quickly muted her end of the connection with the lab. "They can wait a few minutes, I can talk." She said into receiver.

"I was wondering, do you have any plans for lunch?" Bo enquired, a little nervous herself now.

"I was going to get room service," Lauren admitted. She was going to work through lunch too, but she kept that bit to herself.

"I was thinking, there is a beautiful park just minutes from my office, and there are many vendor carts with all kinds of food… Would you like to meet me for lunch and a short walk in the park?" It sounded terribly corny to her own ears, but Lauren would be leaving town soon, so what would be the harm in one more meeting? Also, the park was one of her favorite hangouts, both because of the abundance of street food choices and because it was her favorite place to go running.

The blonde readily agreed and they quickly made plans. When Bo disconnected a few minutes later, she felt more awake and energized than she had all morning. With this newfound vigor, she plunged back into work, checking the time and counting the minutes until lunch only sporadically.

Arriving at the pre-agreed upon location in the park with some time to spare, Lauren looked around curiously. Wide expanse of green lawns were framed by rows of trees; picnicking families and impromptu soccer matchups splattered a plethora of colors against a green backdrop. A lake shimmered in a distance, several old-fashioned row boats languidly crisscrossing its surface. Couples sat cuddling on the park benches here and there, while runners, bikers, roller-skaters and men and women pushing baby strollers moved past her. It was a busy and beautiful place, and Lauren wondered briefly if Bo used the park as a running venue or as a rendezvous point.

She had spent some time googling the brunette before their dinner date the day before, and was surprised to find her on number of social networking sites, most sporting pictures of Bo with various dates at trendy establishments around town. None of the pictures were scandalous or overly revealing, but Lauren couldn't help to note how many different faces – male and female –flickered by as she scrolled.

When Lauren saw Bo walk into the Dal reception area where she waited with her colleagues from LG, she was immediately drawn to the raven-haired beauty – her quiet confidence, grace and charisma were evident in every gesture. She watched Bo charm her team with simple introductions, then step in smoothly to replace a coworker who was called away, and conduct the meeting she was not prepared for with poise and acumen. Unlike Evony, who immediately grasped Bo's parentage and her standing in the company, Lauren remained ignorant to Bo's status until after she secured a dinner date with Evony's help.

Her boss has approached her as they were getting ready to leave, and told her she saw Bo showing a notable interest in the young scientist, and asked if Lauren would like to see the woman socially. Lauren confirmed her own interest and listened raptly as Evony told her what to say. Lauren's elation at Bo's acceptance was palpable, but it transformed into confusion and uncertainty as she learned more about the woman from the various websites that mentioned her. Could a woman like Bo be interested in Lauren? Could Lauren ever hope to hold Bo's attention long enough to get through dinner? Did they have anything in common?

Lauren was not terribly socially awkward, but she found it difficult to connect with many people, and tended to date within her circle of colleagues. Bo was clearly NOT like any of the scientists she worked with, so Lauren did the only thing she knew when encountering an unknown – she researched and analyzed. Still, she was ill-prepared for the evening, she realized as she saw Bo stride into the hotel lobby looking for her. The woman was a vision, even more beautiful and charming than the first time they met. The brunette was attentive, kind and gentle, and when she answered Lauren's impromptu joke with her own, clearly prepared in advance with Lauren's interests in mind, Lauren just about melted in her seat.

The only time Lauren was reminded of the persona she gleaned from Bo's internet presence was later that evening, when they were back in the hotel lobby after superb and enjoyable dinner, and Bo was intimating Lauren should invite her up to her room, no doubt to continue their evening in the comforts of Lauren's king-sized bed. Lauren's concerns from earlier had returned full force and she dejectedly declined, thinking that brunette would lose interest in her once she turned down the sexual advance. So when Bo called the next morning and asked her out to lunch, sounding much like she had during dinner – sweet and kind – Lauren said yes immediately. And now here she stood, wondering if she made a mistake or if she should forget her worries and just enjoy Bo's company for as long as she was allowed to.

The brunette arrived minutes later, coming into view exactly at the appointed time. She was wearing another well-tailored business suit, and Lauren was glad she dressed similarly, though she was only out to lunch and would be returning to her hotel suite afterwards. Dressing for the occasion was not a sense she possessed innately, but she did her best to copy others whenever possible. That was actually the original reason she perused the photographs of Bo at social outings – she wanted to know how the brunette would likely dress in order to dress appropriately herself.

When the two women reached each other, Bo hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, solving Lauren's dilemma as to how to greet the other woman, then took her hand and enthusiastically pulled the blonde towards a row of street vendors, claiming to be famished. Only when they were examining the third cart, deciding if they were in the mood for gyros, Lauren realized that Bo was not letting go of her hand as they moved from vendor to vendor. She squeezed the fingers intertlaced with her own, and brunette had turned to look at her - eyebrow raised in question.

Lauren remained silent, having no idea how to formulate the questions running through her mind, so Bo stepped closer to the blonde woman. "I'm really happy you could meet me here." Bo said sincerely, a wide smile stretching her lips and making her cheeks dimple. "This park is one of my favorite places in the city."

"I'm glad you invited me. I can't remember the last time I had street food, and this place is really great." Lauren said in response, deciding after all that knowing the reason behind the hand holding was less important than the act itself.

They finally settled on their choices – Bo with a polish dog and a pretzel, Lauren with a lamb gyro and a bag of roasted peanuts. They found an empty bench, recently vacated by an older couple who was feeding the birds until they ran out of bread. Bo shooed the birds, making it clear she intended all the food for herself, and they settled in, a modest two inches of space between them.

"So you come here to eat?" Lauren asked after a little while, giving Bo a chance to get some food in before starting a conversation.

"Sometimes." Bo admitted. "Mostly I come here to run, and sometimes to watch the movies. They do 'Movies in the Park' during the summer on Friday nights."

"Movies in the Park?" Lauren repeated, not familiar with a concept.

"Yes, there is a small amphitheater on the other side of the park – just a stage and back wall. The wall is painted white and they use it and a projector to show movies after sunset. Most people bring their own lawn chairs or picnic blankets. It's really quite an experience."

"Oh," Lauren smiled in wonderment. "That's very interesting. Have they started already this year?"

"Yes," Bo answered, charmed by the blonde's enthusiasm. "They started last week. Would you like to come with me tomorrow? They are showing 'Rocky Horror' this week. I've seen it a million times, but it's a special experience to see it in the open air with a bunch of Rocky enthusiasts."

Lauren looked aghast. "A horror movie? After dark, in the open park? I can just imagine how shadows and tree roots would add an element of excitement to the movie. But I'm not a big fan of horror movies, especially the ones with a lot of blood and gore."

Bo laughed at her companion. "You know, I remember they showed Hitchcock's 'Birds' here once and I totally shrieked when a crow flew by at some point that night. But no, 'Rocky Horror' is not a horror movie – it's a musical comedy. Have you never seen it?"

Lauren shook her head no, making a mental note to look up the movie when she got to the hotel after lunch.

"You'll love it." Bo assured the blonde. "Meet me here tomorrow at 7? We can get a quick bite to eat, and it's early enough that we can snag a good spot to watch a movie from." She lowered her head and looked up at Lauren from beneath her thick eyelashes. The pleading look was funny and adorable at the same time, and Lauren nodded in acceptance, utterly charmed. Even if she had reservations about seeing a movie in a park, she couldn't say no to a look like that.

"It's settled then," Satisfied, Bo leaned back on the bench. Balling her paper napkins, she tossed the clump at the trash can that was a few yards away, missing it by a good four feet, but hitting a small dog on the head as it passed them, dragging a little girl by the leash. The dog yelped in instant indignation, then sniffed at the loose ball that smelled like sausage. Bo stepped up and grabbed the small bundle before the dog decided to eat it, also taking Lauren's trash from her and walking it over to the trash can.

When she sat back down, she leaned back, arms and shoulders bent over the back of the bench, face turned up towards the afternoon sun, and took in a deep breath of sweet smelling air, content with herself and the world. Lauren watched the other woman, trailing her eyes over her face admiringly, soft smile on her pale lips.

All too soon Bo had to return to work, and the blonde had walked her to her office building, leaning in and kissing Bo on the cheek, mirroring Bo's gesture from earlier today. They parted after reconfirming their plans for the next evening, Bo going up to her office, Lauren heading back to her hotel.

Bo was still thinking about the other woman and their plans for Friday night when she stepped out of her bedroom several hours later, wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt. These grunge kids have no idea what great music is, she decided.

Dyson, lounging on her couch (what was it with this guy and couches?), smiled when she came out. He was similarly dressed in blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt, both outlining his muscular frame quite nicely.

"You know, it's the most dressed-down I've ever seen you." He commented when she sat down on the ottoman in the foyer, wrestling a pair of fashionable, but still very comfortable black knee-length boots onto her feet.

"Hmm, only because you and I have never gone undercover to a grunge club." Bo replied.

"True. Though you and I had done 'under cover' before." He used his hands to add quote marks around the words. "But I suppose in those times you were more 'undressed' than 'dressed-down'." He continued cheekily.

"Ha-ha." Bo rolled her eyes at the bearded man. "You are a funny man, but I think you should stick with your day job." She grabbed her purse off the end table and nodded towards the door. "Come on, I want to get there before anyone else, so we don't miss Kenzi walking in." She led him outside where the doorman hailed them a cab in seconds. "So, remember," she told him as the taxi sped away towards the club, "When we see Kenzi, we follow her inside, but we must be careful she doesn't see me – it would ruin everything if she recognized me. When we're inside, we'll need to improvise to help Hale get noticed by her."

"And then?" Dyson leaned towards Bo until they were touching from boots to sleeves.

"Hale will have to take care of the rest. I just provide the opportunity, he's going to have to fly solo with this one, unless you want to be his wingman. The girl and I have a bit of history, I won't be able to help him with this one." Bo confessed.

"Solo it is!" Dyson agreed. At Bo's questioning look, he winked at her. "I have big plans for tonight, and none of them involve Hale and a crazy Russian chick."

Bo scowled at the man, but did not comment. She did move slightly to create some distance between them, privately thinking that this man and his panting, ham-fisted attentions will need to find another target tonight if he wanted to get lucky. She no longer found him appealing in the least.

When they climbed out of the taxi, Bo took a look around. They were in the industrial part of town where businesses closed at 6:00 pm, so most everything else did too. They walked down a piss-smelling alley until they saw a metal door that led to the club. They produced their tickets and got wrist stamps in return, which would allow them to come in and out of the club at their leisure. They stepped inside for a minute, just to take a look around. The place was a dive. Food wrappings, gum, cigarette buts and bottle caps were littering the floor that was probably only swept on the fifth Tuesday every other month. Cables, some with stripped or fraying insulation, ran the length of the stage, with a few more hanging from the ceiling like garlands. It was just as well that they were there for something other than a date, Bo decided. She looked at a few patrons already mulling around to making sure Kenzi wasn't among them, then pulled Dyson outside where they could observe everyone going in.

Hale's taxi dropped him off just as they were re-entering the alley. The trio conferred briefly, then Hale went inside while Bo and Dyson tried to find the least offensive-smelling shadowed spot from which to watch the entrance. Hale would text Bo periodically, mostly to complain about the quality of the drinks and about the quality of the DJ who was keeping the crowds entertained until the band went on stage. Mostly, though, he wanted to know if they'd spotted Kenzi yet. Bo tried her best to keep her cool through all of this, but between Hale's complains and Dyson's not so subtle attempts to start something right there in this foul-smelling alley, she was drawing on her last reserves.

At 10:20 Hale texted her to say the band was on stage and the concert was getting started, and still there was no sign of Kenzi. By then Bo and Dyson had moved to stand under the brightest streetlight, since it was the only spot where they can remain for more than a few minutes without gagging.

Finally, about 20 minutes later, they saw her sprinting down the street, trying to run on 4-inch platform boots, and doing a good job, considering. Quickly sending off a message to Hale that they were on the way in, Bo pulled Dyson into a kiss meant to conceal her from the view just as Kenzi approached the pair.

Even though they were supposed to following right behind Kenzi, Dyson took that opportunity to grab her ass. Bo marveled at how anyone could try to put the moves on another in such a vile, smelly place. She stepped away giving her a date an unambiguously reproachful look. "I think it's my duty to alert your partner to cover his ass next time you two are on a stakeout together."

Dyson cringed, imagining the scenario. "Tamsin would claw through my chest and rip my heart out bare-handed if I tried that on her. That chick has serious anger-management issues." He grumbled, hurrying after Bo who was showing her wrist stamp to the bouncer and walking into the club just a few steps behind Kenzi.

The club was packed when they re-entered it. Dyson took the lead on pushing through the crowd right on Kenzi's heals – at 6'5" he towered over most people, having little trouble parting the masses. His height also made it easy for Hale to spot them and for Bo to hide behind him.

Kenzi finally ended her forward progress when she was in the front row, squeezing through the last few rows with more ease than Dyson, who was starting to get heckled for moving to the front and blocking the view of anyone unfortunate enough to be behind him. Hale was still trying to reach them, having a hardest time of all, since his refined manner didn't allow him to simply force his way through. He would stop and very politely, albeit at the top of his lungs to be heard above the music, ask each person in his way if they would graciously trade places with him.

Bo rolled her eyes. It was one part of the plan she failed to account for. Resigned to wait until Hale could reach them, she found herself enjoying the boisterous atmosphere and the music, swaying in time with the tempo. A few people where crowd-surfing, and Bo watched them with a bit of envy, right up until the crowd heaved one of them onto the stage, head first. The unfortunate man had crashed into the percussions with all the force of a bowling ball.

That's when it happened. Bo would later speculate that one of the instruments must have snagged on a wire, either ripping it or contacting it with another wire, because suddenly all the lights went out in the club, along with most of the music – why the lead guitarist continued to strum the pick across the strings of his powered-off electric guitar was a complete mystery.

The crowd erupted in jeers, though it was impossible to tell what exactly they demanded. Just then Hale came up to stand next to Kenzi, and was immediately occupied by trying to make sure the tiny girl was not trampled on by surging masses around them, as some took this opportunity to climb onto the stage. The band had fled, grabbing as many of their instruments as they could carry, and Bo motioned to Dyson that they should make for the exist in all haste.

Unfortunately, they were as far from the exit as they could get, but as the crowd surged forward, the back of the club thinned out considerably. Bo was waiting for a right movement to move when she watched – first in dismay, then in amusement – as Hale, after taking another elbow in the back from someone who was trying to reach the stage – an elbow that may have landed in the vicinity of Kenzi's head if he hadn't intercepted it, picked the girl up and slung her over the shoulder in fireman-carry style before swiftly moving toward the emergency exit sign.

Dyson obviously got a similar idea, but knew better than blatantly toss Bo over his shoulder. Instead, he put her in a loose bear hug, linking his arms with hers and lifting her a few inches off the ground, before following Hale out. He let her go completely when they were through the mass of people, and together they ran into the alley just behind Hale. There were others in the backstreet with them, though this crowed was mostly calm as they headed back to their cars and homes.

Hale, however, was probably still in his overprotective mode, because he didn't let go of Kenzi even after they exited the club, and was now starting to gather attention from people mulling about for all the wrong reasons, since the woman he was holding was kicking and punching and screaming at him to let her go. Bo snapped her fingers right in front of her friend's nose, noting the glassed over look in his eyes. When that didn't help, she shaped him and yelled "Snap out of it!" in a classic Cher move. That apparently got through, and Hale set the woman down.

Once back on the ground, the Kenzi kicked Hale in the shin, making him double over in pain, then ran in direction she came from, not looking back.

"Damn those boots of hers," Hale groaned through clenched teeth, lifting his pant leg to examine a very red and angry mark left by the well-placed kick.

"Cause there is a line between being a saving hero and being a psycho." Bo informed her friend.

"And you're going to help me find it?" Hale asked testily.

"Look behind you," Bo smirked.

Hale hung his head, realizing that he may have overstepped his bounds, considering… Dyson slapped the other man on the shoulder in quiet solidarity. That's when the three of them noticed that something was tangled around Hale's shoulder that didn't belong there. It was a small purse that Kenzi obviously left behind in her haste to escape. Dyson opened it and all three looked curiously inside.

Like most women, Kenzi carried an odd collection of items in her purse – mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, compact with a mirror, tweezers, nail file, bandana, two pens, folded up leaflet, gum, pepper spray, tampon, hand lotion, headphones, floss, Q-tips, travel case of Kleenex, several pins, wallet, phone and 1.73 in loose change. The wallet had Kenzi's ID, the address listed obviously not updated recently, as it placed her hundreds of miles away, and a few bills.

"This gives you a perfect excuse to see her again." Bo told her friend, "If you still want to?"

Hale nodded, unconsciously putting a hand over his heart. "She's the girl of my dreams, Bo. I love her spirit, I love her style, I love her attitude. I even love her crazy and her platform boots."

"I admire your persistence, my dear Don Quixote." Bo admitted. "Though you may consider wearing shin guards for your next meeting with the woman of your dreams."

Hale nodded, still rubbing at the sore spot. "Thanks, Bo."

Bo turned to her date for the evening, thinking this was the perfect opportunity to drop the man. "Dyson, thank you for being my hero tonight." She put a hand on his chest and patted, "but I think Hale needs a shoulder to cry on and an icepack. I should take him home." Hale looked for a second like he was going to protest needing a shoulder, but one look at Bo told him to shut up and nod.

Dyson gave her a gentle smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and put dimples in his cheeks. "Call me." He hugged Bo in parting, fist-bumped Hale and walked down the alley to hail a cab.

"Time to go, big guy." Bo leaned into Hale and he put an arm over her shoulder as he always had.

"It has been an eventful evening." Hale scratched his eyebrow, bewildered how things have gone so mad in no time flat.

Bo relieved Hale of Kenzi's purse and twirled it in her hand as they walked toward the street. "I'll call Fritz and see if he can meet us at your place, I want him to take a look at Kenzi's phone before you return it. Be a dear and get us a cab."

Hale wasn't about to question his friend's moves. He saw a passing cab and let out a shrill whistle that made quite a few passersby stop and stare. It also got the cabby's attention, and he swung around stopping in front of the pair.

"Your chariot, my queen." Hale opened the door for his friend and gestured for her to precede him.

Fritz was already in the lobby of Hale's building when they arrived. He looked at Hale's disheveled appearance and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Tough nigh?"

"You have no idea." Bo responded. She handed the older man Kenzi's purse. "Her phone is inside there."

Bo settled Hale on a couch and grabbed a couple of beers from his fridge, popping the caps. She handed them out to the men before dropping into a plush chair. Hale dressed like a runway model, but his place was one giant man-cave – all comfort, no style.

Fitz was on the couch next to Hale, Kenzi's phone attached by cables to a laptop in his lap. "There is some kind of encryption on this phone, I'm going to need to break out heavy machinery to get anywhere with it." The man mumbled, pulling the cables out from the phone.

"Sure, I can take it back to her during lunch instead of the first thing in the morning. Would it give you enough time?" Hale asked after taking a long pull from the bottle, then placing it against a still tender spot on his shin.

"Yeah." Fitz put both devices back into his briefcase. "I'll unlock it and install in a location and calls tracker, then copy her photos, contacts, browsing history, the whole nine yards."

"Whoa, are we going a little too far? Is this even legal?" Hale turned toward the older man, letting go of his injured leg.

Bo and Fitz exchanged looks. "Maybe we are taking the spy games a bit far." Bo conceded. Fitz just shrugged. He was ok with this level of intrusion. "But," she continued, "a phone can be a treasure trove of information. Let's copy the contacts and pictures, but don't install anything."

"You're the boss, boss." Fritz agreed, taking a sip from his beer. "A friendly warning, before you head out to the messenger service to return the purse. I pulled the records for the people who run it and found a few misdemeanors for assault, drunk and disorderly, and public urination – nothing too scary, but still, these guys are not afraid to mix it up, if they feel like it, so don't get into their faces."

"That's encouraging." Hale mumbled.

"Any time you want to quit, you just let us know." Bo patted Hale's knee affectionately. "This is where I leave you, gentlemen. It's a school night, and I have a date tomorrow evening – need to look my best and be fully rested!" She got up and put her put her empty beer bottle on the counter for Hale's housekeeper do deal with.

"I'll be in touch." Fitz told Bo, then went to the fridge for another round, after Hale waved his empty bottle at him.

Bo chuckled as she closed the door behind her, deciding to put the 'operation Kenzi' on hold for a day in favor of her own plans. Maybe Hale will surprise them all and get the girl to go out with him on his own. And if not, he could use a day to heal his shin and his pride.