“Me either, but I can’t help but hope,” he said, grabbing the papers from his partner and striding forward to take a pen off the desk and quickly sign. “There you go.”

“Hey—” Rutherford started.

Fields calmly turned around and headed for the elevator. “We lost this one. Sometimes it happens. Now I want waffles.” He entered the elevator and turned around. “Hurry up, or I’ll leave you here with them.”

“This isn’t over,” Rutherford snapped, turning on his polished loafer and following his partner.

“I hope they get stuck,” Wolfe muttered.

Brigid shuddered. “The bad guys are all gone.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Where do you think Josh the Bear is?”

“Dunno,” Raider said, stretching his legs and wincing. “The guy didn’t exist until he worked for the senator, so maybe he’s moved on to another life. Could turn into a model citizen, or he might start his own crime organization. Dollars to donuts, we’ll never see him again.”

Weird. Definitely weird.

Roscoe barked once at the elevator and then flipped a perfect U-turn in the air, running full bore for Angus’s office.

“Stop him!” Angus bellowed, turning in his chair. “I left the Jack Daniel’s out.”

Wolfe and Mal both grabbed for the dog, but he leaped between Mal’s legs and was on the bottle in a second. Then, in a graceful dodge, he tipped it up, backflipping toward his bed and out of sight. Moments later, Wolfe emerged with the empty bottle. “He got it all.”

“Damn it.” Angus shook his head. “Somebody put on some Metallica. He likes to dance when he’s drunk.” The dog emerged, already shaking his head and tail in direct opposition to each other.

Sean stilled, watching the pooch. “Um, alcohol kills dogs. Shouldn’t we take him to the vet?”

“No,” Brigid answered, trying not to smile. “He’s been to the vet several times, and the vet says he has the liver of an old sailor. He’ll dance for a while, flirt a little with me, and then pass out.”

“Unbelievable,” Sean muttered.

“I know. We’re working on it.” Angus sighed. “Nice job with the plea agreement, Tanaka.”

Brigid’s heart filled. “I agree. Thank you.” He’d thought of her, even after this crazy week.

“Of course.” Raider snuggled her closer. “Force? Is there some sort of HR form we have to sign to be dating in the same unit? I mean, we are dating. Nice and slow.”

Okay. Her badass was a dork sometimes. She could live with that—he was sexy and cute. “Screw HR, and we are not going slow.”

His gaze sharpened. “Oh?”

Her heart rate picked up. This was probably a private conversation, but the team was in on everything, anyway. “Yeah. The way we’re going, we won’t survive the next op. So no going slow. We’re in love, and we’re moving full speed ahead.”