+18 eps. 12-16 - Gillian and Brock face huge changes in their lives after she leaves the PD and he moves back to DC. But no matter what, looks like they just can't help coming across each other.
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"What is it, Declan?" Viv asked, when he frowned at his own words.
Brock wore his best casual smile and shook his head. "Nothing, you were saying?"
"You were saying." She smiled back, that little smirk to tell him he wasn't getting away with it.
But Brock knew how to throw her off. He checked his watch and raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't we get going?"
Viv's smirk widened, her lips pursed in a world of promises, pleased to see he couldn't wait to be alone with her. She excused herself to go to the restroom while he asked for the bill.
"I'll be right back," she said, her finger tracing up his arm as she walked by his side.
Brock nodded, a mild smile nailed to his face, waited a few more seconds and produced his phone.
Jo picked up at the second ring, and he apologized for calling her that late. She cut him off straight to the point. "In case the Director called you, there's still nothing from Boston, sir."
Okay, so it was something that would make the Director call late for an update. "No, he didn't. Can you send me a recap on the case, please?"
"Of course, sir, right away."
"Thank you."
He disconnected just when the waiter brought him the ticket to sign and Viv came back to the table. A minute later, they drove in Brock's car to his apartment. Viv was telling him something about her pets when Brock's phone beeped, interrupting her. She frowned when he didn't even look at it.
"You're not checking it?"
"No need. I'll take a look at it later. And where was Betsy hiding this time?"
Viv was about to answer when his phone beeped again, with another incoming email. Now she sounded a bit annoyed, as the phone beeped for the third time.
"You sure you don't wanna check what that is?"
Brock pressed her hand. "It's just work."
"This late on a Friday?"
He nodded with another smile. She let out a sigh and went on, while his phone kept beeping. Brock forced himself not to scowl. So many files? What was going on in Boston?
That question clutched to the back of his head all the while, but he managed to conceal his mind was not quite in the moment. Or so he thought, at least. Until Viv rolled on top of him.
"Earth to Declan," she whispered, bending over to kiss him. "You there, lover?"
"Right here," he replied against her lips, grabbing her hips to keep her in place, and smiled at her soft moan.
An hour later, he pulled over in front of the house where he had to pick Andrea up, and scowled at spotting the scarce dress his daughter wore. She had wrapped herself in her coat, which at least covered her down to her knees, and hurried to climb into the car by his side.
"Hey, Dad! Right on time!" she greeted him, kissing his cheek, and buckled up her seatbelt with a sigh. "Gosh! It was the best party ever!"
"And you needed to attend in that outfit," he grumbled, gearing in and driving away. "Wasn't it a theme party? And what was the theme, Garden of Eden, to have you coming hardly dressed?"
Andrea giggled at his rant. All of her friends hated when their fathers went that overprotective about them, but she couldn't help to find it sweet that Brock still worried so much over her.
"C'mon, Dad! Not like I wore it to a night club or something!"
Brock was about to grunt some more, but she looked away from him and sniffed the air.
"What's that smell?" she asked, frowning.
He frowned too. "What smell?"
"It's... it's like..." Andrea turned to him, her eyes widening. "Dad! It's woman's perfume!"
"Don't change the subject," he replied. "You know very well that I don't like you going out dressed like that, Andrea. It's not safe."
"You're seeing someone!"
"Andrea..."
No use. The girl burst in excited exclamations. "Who? When? How! Oh, my! You gotta tell me everything about it!"
His frown turned into a scowl. "I'm not discussing my private life with you, Andrea. Not when you're not even able to pick your own clothing with a little common sense." That should distract her, and start a little argument that would make her forget about Viv's perfume in his car.
But she narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him, as far as the belt allowed her to. "Meaning I know her," she muttered.
Brock huffed. Just what he needed: his own daughter playing profiler on him.
