Lucas

                                    

                                          
"Dixon!" Lucas barks, looking around for the agent. Frustration flares in him when he can't find her. "Hey!" he calls out to another agent whose name he can't remember. "Where the hell is Dixon?"
The young agent swallows nervously under Lucas's intense glare. "She's on leave for a couple of days. Her nephew is sick."
"Nephew?" Lucas grunts, processing the information. "Fine, thanks."
He stomps his way to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. He didn't know Dixon had a nephew. But then, there are a lot of things he doesn't know about people, including Samantha. He groans as his thoughts drift back to her. 
He doesn't know much about her on a deep level, yet he feels he understands her better than most. She loves history and art but only if it's "cool." She hates fancy art. She despises bugs but loves nature and would climb any tree, as long as it's bug-free. Lucas smiles, remembering her pout when he reminded her that all trees have bugs. His smile widens, imagining her reaction if he called it a pout to her face.
"Dammit!" he curses at himself. He shouldn't be thinking about her. He's supposed to be angry with her for being so difficult. She thinks he "hovers." 
Does he? 
He's only trying to ensure she's safe. Surely she understands that. But evidently, she doesn't. Besides, he doesn't have to do all these things for her. He didn't have to get her movies he thought she'd like. Make sure she isn't bored or uncomfortable. Maybe she will enjoy having Vaughn around more, because he certainly won't be there more than necessary now. Lucas rubs his scruff, growing livid again. This is why he doesn't get involved with women. Too damn hard.
Lucas slams his forehead down onto his arm, resting on his desk. Another agent? She wants another agent? Here he thought he was doing a good job. The worst part is, that despite wanting to be angry with her, he can't. She has reasons for her distrust. His fists tighten as he recalls how she flinched. How she leaned away, angling her body to protect her face. It pained him to see her react that way. It also caught him by surprise. 
Even though she had hinted at it before, seeing the evidence was different. Her nightmares show him how much she hurts inside, from old and new wounds. Is it strange that after just eight days, it hurts him so much to see her like that? Maybe he would feel the same for any woman he saved. But he knows it's different with her. He can feel it. But should he act on it? No, he shouldn't; it's too soon. No, that's not why. He shouldn't because it will put the case at risk.
"I don't do women," he groans, his head swimming with conflicting thoughts.
"Stick to men, then," a voice interrupts.
Lucas jumps slightly and swings his head up. Julian smiles at him from his position in the corner of the room.
"What the hell are you doing there?" Lucas narrows his eyes at him. Julian, usually dressed in a suit and tie, looks out of place in the office.
Julian takes a seat on the edge of Lucas's desk. "Thought I'd come to see you."
"Get off my desk," Lucas growls. Julian ignores him.
"It was easier to sneak in than last time," Julian flicks a piece of thread off his pants.
"You don't have to sneak in. You're allowed to just come up."
Julian shrugs. "There's no fun in that."
"Hmm."
"You should consider the men thing. Might go easier for you."
"Are you here to say something or just to bother me?"
"I'm very tempted to say just to bother you, but sadly, that's not the case." Julian's expression turns serious. "My unit got a call last night. Another house was set on fire, and a body was found with a gunshot to the head."