Leroy, taking to heart Billie's glower over his treatment of the new tenant, walked outside when he saw the taxi pull up and Sam get out of it.

"Want some help?" Leroy asked.

Sam looked him up and down for a second, from his 4 or so inch taller perspective and his considerably more muscular frame.  "Thank you, that would be helpful."

The trunk of the taxi held, Leroy was not the least bit surprised to find, a matching set of expensive leather luggage, as well as several boxes of what looked like office equipment. A printer, a scanner, a wireless router, external hard drive, and a docking station. Sam himself hefted the case with his laptop in it. Between Leroy and Sam the stuff was sitting in the living room of the apartment in a few minutes and Sam gave the taxi driver a hefty tip and then walked into the apartment.

"You folks work odd hours?" Sam asked.

Leroy nodded. "We're all in law enforcement so you know how that goes. I like nights better than days anyway."

"Ah. Well, then, my own odd hours won't disturb you I hope. I'm not particularly noisy, and I expect I'll be out a lot anyway. Still, you might hear me coming in not much before dawn."

"Okay, thanks for the heads up. We won't worry then.  You need any more help?" Leroy asked.

Sam looked around. "No thanks. I can manage."

Leroy shrugged a good bye and headed toward the stairs to his and Billie's apartment.

"Mr. Saunders," Sam said catching him.

Leroy stopped and turned around. "Leroy. Whatcha need?"

"I seem to recall a deck out back. May I make use of it?"

"Oh sure," Leroy replied. "Not too bad a grill there."

"Yes, I saw that. I was wondering... Do you and Billie and perhaps Bobbie have plans for Sunday afternoon?"

Leroy frowned. "Not at the moment. We're between jobs so the weekends are pretty calm. No tellin' if that'll change, but for now we don't have plans. Why?"

"I like to cook. I was thinking, since I haven't had much chance to cook recently, I might like to grill something. I'd be delighted if the three of you would join me."

Leroy raised an eyebrow. "Let me check, but it sounds great to me."

"Please do check," Sam said as Leroy bounded up the stairs.

Bobbie hefted the bag of groceries to the other arm and watched the taxi drive away.  Presumably, then, the new tenant had arrived.  She looked over at the windows of the downstairs apartment as she juggled her keys out of her bag.  She missed Betty a lot.  She got the door opened and set the bag on the steps while she checked her mail.  Mostly bills, she saw, and a couple of letters that made her frown.  She put the bills on top of the groceries and slid her nail under the flap of one.

She heard the door click open and looked up.  Sam came out dressed in a very upscale suit. "Oh, hullo. Need some help?"

She smiled at him.  "Oh...Uhm no, but thanks.  Did you get moved in okay?"

He smiled at her and replied, "Oh, yes. Mr. Saunders was nice enough to help. I do appreciate the fact that I'm a bit of an interloper. You all being used to just family here.  So I appreciate his assistance all that much more."

She grinned.  "He's a bit protective, especially after what happened.  A sort of big brother complex."  She leaned back against the newel post.  "You know you really aren't an interloper at all.  I hope it's an impression that wears off."

"Yes, well, hopefully I'll grow on him. You said... I don't mean to pry but you said 'after what happened.'  I hope your sister is all right and that she hasn't moved out because, of well, something awful that happened to her here in your beautiful city."

"No, it was nothing that happened here.  It was a job that went bad.   She's fine now, though still recuperating."

"But was, apparently bad enough to make Mr. Saunders a bit worried. Well, that explains a lot then. I thank you for sharing that with me. I'll try not to take his protectiveness to be aimed at me personally."

She smiled.  "No it isn't, not in the least.  But you were on your way out.  I don't want to make you late.  I just have a bad habit of reading my mail in the hallway sometimes."

"Well, I'm delighted to have had a chance to speak with you. I'm on my way to work actually," he made a face. "Cocktails and dinner at the Embassy. I have to go and be charming; Or at least pretend to be."

She laughed.  "The nightlife of the diplomatic set, an endless round, I've heard.  But there is all that free food, and supposedly better than McDonald's usually."

He made a face. "Rubber chicken. I prefer to cook my own."

"Pure torture then if you cook," she said.  "But you appear to have the resilience required to sustain the such culinary atrocities."

"Is that a compliment or .. Never mind, I think I'd rather not know. Good evening, Miss Dubois. I hope your meal will be far tastier than mine."

She dimpled.  "It wasn't an insult.  And I hope you enjoy your evening," she said, picking up her grocery bag.   "And it's Bobbie," she added as she headed for the stairs.

He opened the door to the street then turned back to her. "Bobbie then. Good night. Oh, I asked Leroy if he, you and Billie were free Sunday afternoon. I was considering a cookout. I've missed cooking over the last few weeks.  I hope you'll say yes."

"It sounds like fun.  Would you like me to bring a covered dish?" she asked, mischief in her eyes.

"How about a bottle of wine."

"I think I can handle that," she said. 

"Great. Have a good evening," he said as he walked out the door and began sauntering down the street toward Wisconsin.

She watched him for a moment and then continued up the stairs to her apartment and another night at home.  Maybe, she thought, it was time to get a cat.

The patio behind the house took up most of the backyard.  The rest had been landscaped into a low maintenance garden and fenced to afford maximum privacy.  At this time of year the shrubbery hiding the fence was a tumbling mass of color that competed with the show being staged by the flower beds and naturalized bulbs around the trees.  The sight made Bobbie smile like it always did.   She pushed the back door open and stepped out onto the patio, where Sam was already doing grilling sorts of things with the grill and Billie and Leroy ensconced with a drink.  "Sorry I'm late," she said, setting down two bottles of wine and a corkscrew.  "I didn't bring glasses, but I can go get some if you need me to."

"No, I don't think so. We're good. Would you like a drink, or a glass of wine?"

"Wine, I think.  Would you like me to open them?"

He turned to meet her eyes. "That would be great. Thank you. I wasn't sure how spicy you liked your food," Sam said, including all three of them in the conversation. "So I ..."

"I like Cajun and blackened. I'm good with spicy food," Leroy offered.

Billie laughed.  "Oh yeah, real good.  And so are we."

Bobbie pulled the cork out with an expert motion, nodding confirmation.  "Very much so.  Anyone else want a glass?"

"I'll take one," Sam said. "Good then I'll spice the steaks a bit more."

The conversation while he cooked was light and easy and he was obviously comfortable cooking. A salad was easy enough but he had an onion souffle to serve with the steaks that even had Leroy drooling over it when they all sat down to dinner.

"Nothing too fancy, of course, eating out is for good conversation and comfort," Sam said as he poured them all wine. "Please. Enjoy."

"But it's lovely," Billie said.  "Thank you so much for doing this."

"Indeed," Bobbie added after she tasted the souffle.  "Lovely doesn't do it justice.  Apparently you know a bit about cooking?  Is the rub on the steak yours?"

"Yes, the rub is mine. I enjoy cooking. Always have. I miss my kitchen at home when I'm away. I'm hoping I can take a week off soon and spend it there. I suppose, Leroy, you don't cook?"

Leroy almost choked at the thought. "Nope. Not hardly. I'm a menace."

Billie snorted and almost spewed her food.  "But he sure loves to eat."

"Hey!" Leroy yelped.

Sam laughed. "Well, good then. When I have the urge to cook I'll call him down."

"There ya go, honey," Bobbie said.  "A perfect relationship.  He cooks and you eat and Billie doesn't have to do the dishes."

After dinner they moved to the chairs and shared a few more glasses of wine, just chatting easily.  Eventually Sam said, "Your sister.. She must be an interesting person. Just seeing the things she kept in her apartment. I feel rather like a voyeur, but books and pictures, those someone selects to keep and display has always caught my imagination."  He laughed. "Even seeing what kitchen utensils someone has can be fascinating."

"Really?  What do her utensils tell you about her?" Bobbie asked.

He smiled. "She's organized and very precise. She's a bit of a perfectionist, and wants the right tool for the right chore. She takes care of what she has."

Billie nodded.  "Pretty good," she said.  "Makes me wonder if I should keep you away from my utensil drawer."

Sam laughed. "But you three are law enforcement, so you are trained to be observant too, correct?"

Bobbie shrugged.  "To a degree.  I've always thought it was something, after a point, you either had a knack for or you didn't.  A sort of obsession with detail."

"Ah, I see. We diplomats have to be aware of detail too. Wars have begun over the use of the wrong fork."

Bobbie laughed.  "The details of etiquette.  So how, if I might ask, did you get to be a diplomat who doubled as a travel agent?"

Sam made a face. "I'm still wondering just how it happened. I suppose I was in the wrong place at the right time. And you three? How is it you all are in law enforcement?"

Billie rolled her eyes.  "We promised Mama.  She wasn't happy about us moving so far from home and all, among strangers.  And she was real worried about the sorts of men we'd be meeting, so we promised her we'd get jobs where she wouldn't have to worry."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Oh, I see. And you Leroy?"

"I was from a cop family. Not much choice really. Wasn't good for much else."

"Oh I rather doubt that," Sam replied, his eyes twinkling. "You seem to be a very good big brother, for instance."

"He figured it was safer that way when he met us." Bobbie said.  "Hadn't figured on Billie, apparently."

"Safer?" Sam asked.

Bobbie glanced at Leroy out of the corner of her eye.  "Yeah, he said once the three of us, we scared the bejezuz out of him."

"I can totally understand that, Leroy. They are pretty formidable."

"They're hell on wheels too. Not to mention their Daddy ain't nothin' to mess with either."

"Oh. And yet you're brave enough to be living with Billie."

"Not only that," Billie said, "He asked me, I didn't ask him. I thought it was real brave of him."

Sam chuckled easily as he poured more wine. "A true hero."

"You only say that cuz you ain't met their Daddy," Leroy muttered defensively.

"Daddy's a pussy cat, honey," Bobbie assured him, struggling to keep her lips straight.  "It's really Mama you gotta worry 'bout.  Those southern women, fading magnolia's with tempered steel backbones."

"She's right, sweetie," Billie assured, patting him on the arm.  "And she likes you a lot.  Otherwise she wouldn't cook for you every time she sees you."

"Ah, the true test if you are in the graces of a Southern woman. Or so I'm told.  I take it your father is a wise man."

"I don't know about wise, but he sure knew a good thing when he met it or when it met him, I'm not sure which," Bobbie said.  "He says he took one look at Mama and that was it.  He never knew what hit him."

"Really?  Well, considering his daughters he was obviously right.  Did I hear you say Betty had moved to England? You must miss her terribly, being so far away."

Bobbie's eyes dimmed for a second.  "Yes."

"Betty and Bobbie are twins, and I'm what you call an Irish twin, just eleven months younger.  It's always been like we were triplets," Billie said with a smile.  "So we miss her a lot.  But we see her fairly often, and hopefully she'll be back to work soon.  And she's happy and that's the important thing."

"Yes. Happy. It is an important consideration. And safe now?"

"As safe as Ian can possibly make her, which is about as good as it gets," Bobbie said.  "I kind of think it'll be a while before he lets her go anywhere without him."

"It'll be even worse for him when she starts work again," Billie said.

"You know, we keep saying when she comes back like it's a foregone conclusion, but it really isn't," Bobbie said.  "Especially if she thinks..."  She let it trail off and sipped her wine.

"You think she might not?" Billie asked, startled.

Bobbie nodded. 

"She really loves Ian. I'm thinking she's not gonna want to put him through that again," Leroy added sadly.

"And with Collins still running around," Bobbie said, "well that just adds to it.  I mean, I know Rimes is committed to finding him, but we haven't got a clue where he is.  And Stephen and Marc are drawing a blank on that woman...Roz?...even with Jenelle helping apparently, which is why Marc and Dinah haven't gone back to the Rim."

"He cut a deal with Stephen didn't he?  Over her?" Billie asked.

Bobbie nodded.  "That's what I gather.  But it's not like he talks to me about it.  Still, I think Stephen told him that if he wanted the relationship and his help then the operation was theirs, and they weren't talking about why.  But Dinah said it was..." she started and then cut herself off, taking another sip of wine to cover the break.  "Anyway, I think she's going to resign."

Sam was sitting back sipping his wine and listening. Leroy looked over at him and offered, "Sorry. Cops always talk shop. You don't even know who we're talking about."

Sam shrugged.  "Trust me, folks I work with fall into the same habit. I'm used to only listening with one ear.I am sorry about your sister though.  But at least she is well now, and I gather safe, and I suppose that is all any of us can hope for."

"Yes," Bobbie said. "You'll get to meet her if you're around next weekend.  She and Ian are coming to pick up some of the things she left in the basement.  And possibly some of the books and things."

"Oh I'll look forward to that then. I'd like very much to meet her."

The evening ended with several dead soldier wine bottles.  Bobbie Jo stayed behind while Billie and Leroy went to their apartment to help Sam clean up even though he protested that he could handle things just fine.

"Do you like jazz, Bobbie? I've got an extra ticket to see Wynton Marsalis at the Kennedy Center next week. I'd be honored if you'd go with me."

She looked up from loading the dishwasher, surprised.  After a moment she smiled and said, "I wish I could Sam.  I'm flattered that you asked."

"Ah, well, no problem.  Is it me?"

"You?"

"Well," he leaned against the counter near her, crossed his legs at the ankles and regarded her frankly. "Are you uninterested in me, in dating me, because, well, my race? My nationality? That I'm not a cop? What?"

She looked at him hard for a moment, then put the last dish in the dishwasher, closed it and stood up, facing him.  "None of them," she said.  "I apologize if I gave you the impression it might be because of any of those things.  The reason has nothing to do with you."

"Forgive me. You gave me no such impression. It.. I should have realized you were seeing someone. It's just that all evening no one mentioned anyone with regard to you so I... Again, I'm sorry."

She regarded him as frankly as he was regarding her, considering her answer as she wiped her hands on the dish towel.  "I'm not seeing anyone," she said at last.

"Ah. I see. Will I be kicked out of my apartment if I ask you again some time in the near future?"

She laughed at that.  "No, not at all.  And truly, I am flattered to be asked."

He met her eyes and smiled. "Well, then. I'll find something to just have a spare ticket for that will tempt you. I promise."

"I believe you.  Now, is there anything else I can help with?  I think we've gotten everything from the patio," she asked smiling up at him.

"No, thank you. I hope you enjoyed the evening as much as I."

"I did," she replied.  "You're a wonderful cook."  She hung the towel up and then met his eyes, still smiling.  "Good night, Sam."

"May I see you safely to your apartment?"  he asked as he saw her to his own door. As she grinned he leaned forward and kissed her. He didn't linger at it but it was a full kiss on the lips. "I beg your pardon but I've been thinking of nothing else all night. Sleep well."  He stood there and watched her walk up the stairs.

She turned at the first landing and met his eyes again briefly, her expression puzzled.  Then she blushed and continued on to her apartment.

Sam frowned, looked down at his shoes for a moment, then turned and shut his door.