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On the outside of the box is a simple, "For Warrick." Nothing else. No indication of who put it there, or what's inside.

Or wouldn't be, if he didn't know exactly who it had come from.

Catherine looks over his shoulder at the box in his hands. "What's in the box?"

Warrick shrugs. "I have no idea." This, at least, is not a lie.

"Who's it from?"

"Dunno." This *is* a lie. He's surprised Cath doesn't recognize the handwriting. It's pretty distinctive: prissy and ultra-correct, every bit as overperfected as its owner.

"People are just leaving you anonymous packages in the middle of the break room?" Catherine raises an eyebrow. "Not so sure I like that."

"I'm sure it's fine, Cath." He shakes the box - gently, because he never knows with these things what will be in them. "See you later?"

"Don't forget we have to go talk to Brass later about the--"

"The thing. Right." He nods and wandered out of the room. When he reaches his destination, he's smiling. "Unmarked packages in the middle of the breakroom, Gris?"

Gil looks up from his notes and smiles. "I knew you would figure out who it had come from. You open it?"

"Was about to. Then Catherine wandered in. Figured she didn't need to see whatever's in it."

Smiling a bit deviously, Gil rises and came around the desk. His fingers brush the back of Warrick's hand - barely noticable except in every last one of Warrick's nerve endings. "You're right. Think you can wait 'til we get home to open it?"

Warrick groans. The man is going to be the death of him. "Do I have any other choice?"

The smile is definitely wicked now. "None at all."

*



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