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Heather reacher up, her arms gently lacing around his neck. She had to stand on her tip-toes to rise eye-to-eye with him. She didn't really know what else to do, so she kissed him.

Atticus's eyes widened and he blinked. She kissed him, a few days ago, she had nearly stormed out of his life when she found out he was a detective. Yet now, she was kissing him? Atticus wrapped his arms around her and returned her kiss.

Heather's hands roamed to his head and she ran her fingers through his hair. She didn't get it. Why did she care for him so much? Why did she want him so close to her? She never let anyone past her bubble, but yet she let him pop right through and allowed herself to be cradled up in his arms. Why did she care about him so much? What was different? Heather didn't know, but she liked it.

Atticus also found himself thinking while he kissed her, he unintentionally moved his hands onto her sides, not really thinking. Why? He had been on many dates, he had known many girls. But he had never felt for one, like he felt for Heather. He realized know, that if he had let her storm out, of Starbucks... he wouldn't have her.

Heather finally broke the kiss and found herself blushing madly. She giggled once, then silenced herself. How could she have ever thought of storming out of his life? How could she ever lose him? Heather rested her forehead on his and smiled.

Atticus was silent for a moment then he smiled "Heather... I think... I think I'm in love with you..." he looking into her eyes while she pressed her forehead to his. "...You don't have to response... but I thought I should say that..." he whispered.

After a few moments of looking at him, Heather finally spoke. "I think I'm in love with you, too." She muttered. But was she ready to admit that? Oh well, too late.

Atticus blinked with surprise, she loved him? As he thought back, no other girl had ever told him that... but then again no other girl was like Heather. He smiled brightly, he gave her one more soft kiss before pulling away and looking at the clock. His hands where once again intertwined with hers when he saw the time was nearly 3 AM. He was thankful he didn't have to work tomorrow but he was a bit tired.

"We should go to bed...It's late..." Heather commented, staring at the clock, then shifting her gaze to Atticus. She looked at their hands, his hands had killed people, her hands hadn't. His hands were rough and felt like sandpaper on her skin, her's were soft and pale. Heather tugged him to her bedroom and looked around, before lacing herself in the sheets and resting her head on the pillow.

Atticus glanced around and rubbed the back of his neck. In his mind, he assumed he'd be sleeping on the couch. He was apparently wrong. He realized that he did love Heather, and so the awkwardness faded to the back of his mind. He pulled his shirt off, he always slept in a pair of pajama pants, but never a shirt. He just couldn't sleep with a shirt on, he could sleep in his jeans with no problem but just not his shirt. After another moment he laid down next to Heather. At first he had his back to her, but then rolled to his other side. He put his arm around her and pulled her close, hoping she wouldn't mind.

It felt nice having someone next to her while she slept. The warmth was soothing, like nothing could hurt her. She snuggled deeper into Atticus’s chest, whispered a goodnight, and found herself drifting into a sleep. Heather had predicted that she would have nightmares. But with Atticus next to her, even in her dreams, she wasn’t scared. It was really the first time that she’d slept soundly since she moved out. The banging of taxis as they romped down the street didn’t care her in the least.

Atticus blinked when Heather snuggled against him and whispered goodnight. He smiled softly and sighed happily. Atticus was use to being alone, with Scout flopped down at the end of his bed. He enjoyed this though, being with Heather. He also had soon drifted of into sleep, still holding Heather close.

The lights of an early morning hit Heather's face first, and her caramel eyes opened slowly and lazily. She looked around her room, it was the same as when she went to bed. Heather rolled to see Atticus, still snoring, laying in her bed. For a second she was stunned, then she remembered everything that happened last night and calmed down. Heather wiggled out of Attiuc's grasp and went to go make some breakfast.

Atticus would have slept longer, but his phone, which was in his jean pocket rang. He grunted and opened his eyes. He blinked a moment when he realized he wasn't at his house, then he remembered what had happened. He picked up his ringing phone and saw it was an incoming call from his neighbor.

"What the h*ll do you want, Rodney?..." he muttered to himself then he answered his phone. "Hello?"

"Attie?" the voice on the other end asked. Atticus knew that wasn't Rodney's whiny voice. He propped himself up on one elbow. "Who is this?" Atticus asked.

"Why don't you rememeber me my dear boy!"

Atticus blinked, "Nigel Smith?"

"Ha ha! 'Ello Atticus!" Nigel greeted. Nigel was a friend of Atticus's father, the wealthy British aristocrat had met Atticus's dad when they fought in Vietnam, and over the years had become like a father to Atticus. "I had to ask your neighbor to use his phone, since you're not at your bloody house!"

"Sorry Nigel, I'm... away..." Atticus replied.

"That would've been nice to know." Nigel commented.

"Woulda' been nice to know you where coming back to the States!" Atticus retorted.

"Haha, your sense of humor is still bloody good you yank! Say my boy, I've not seen your face since you where what?"

"Fifteen." Atticus replied.

"Ah yes! SO my boy, how would you feel about a little reunion, I need a bit of help. It will be just like old times."


Atticus had to ponder a moment. Nigel 'adopted' him when he was fourteen, thing was Nigel was a master thief. A treasure hunter, he and young Atticus had nearly gotten killed many times. "Nigel, I don't do that kind of stuff anymore." he said.

"Oh no my boy, nothing like that, I just need to know a bit more about... the Big Apple?"

Atticus laughed, he sat up. He wanted to spend more time with Heather.

"Nigel I really-"

"You've got a girl." Nigel's reply was more of a announcement rather than a question.

"W-wha-"

"No worries, we can meet up later tonight?" Nigel asked.

Atticus sighed "Alright Nigel."

"Jolly good!"

After agreeing to meet Nigel later at Angus's bar, Atticus got up and walked into the kitchen.

The enticing smell of bacon and pancakes filled the small apartment. Heather had always liked to cook, and instead of settling for a lousy bowl of cereal, she had decided to go all out. She poked the sizzling bacon with a fork and then flipped the pancakes; breakfast food was the most fun to make. She stacked 2 pancakes on a plate, and then places 3 strips of bacon next to it. Then she stacked another plate and set them down on the table. Heather realized a pair of eyes watching her, it was Atticus.

She looked up from the table and smiled at him, her face lighting up at the site of him. “Good morning!” She greeted, “I made pancakes and bacon, there’s coffee in the coffee maker. I also have orange juice if you’re not a big coffee drinker.” Heather hummed, dancing over to the coffee maker and pouring herself a cup.