“The man in 4B wondered if he could have your autograph. He told me his daughter is a huge fan.”Fan? What the hell? Dylan lifted himself up and looked over the back of his seat. Since when did covert operators have fans?”

“Mission of mercy, he said, straightening up, his voice so cold, he could have owned the patent.”

“No. Thank you she said in a voice that said he could go to hell and take his jacket with him.”

“Fuck, Dylan said, then thought it, just for the hell of it.”

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”“No, we don’t.” He liked meeting like this, over her bare ass, a hot-off-the-presses copy of the Rocky Mountain News, and a steaming cup of coffee. It was so perfect, he planned on doing it every day for the rest of his life. He just hadn’t told her yet.”

“You’re staring at my ass.”“Yes, I am.” It’s what he did in the mornings, when she woke up and spent the first hour lying around in bed.”

“You stole my heart, Regan,"he told her. "And I don't particularly want it back.”