You liked Volpe, and he very obviously liked you. But with Montclair constantly pushing him away from you, it was tough for you two to even meet outside of work. You both (mostly you, of course), had to make up excuses just to meet for an hour or two, to be by each other's side, to talk about his traumas, and your traumas, and just about life. That day, you came to work wearing high heels on purpose. When you tripped and fell in the middle of the work day, it definitely didn't look fake, so you asked Volpe to go and drive you to the hospital. Instead of the hospital, however, you gave him a different address. It was a club- a billiards club, and you definitely brought him to shoot pool and drink whiskey. Certainly, Volpe chuckled and looked at you. "This is not a hospital. Is your leg even hurt?" Of course it wasn't! Volpe allowed himself a laugh, then shook his black-haired head as his blue eyes looked down at you. "Won't Montclair ask for a check, since he offered to pay? How are we going to explain it? He'll kill me for sure if he finds out."