It had been a few terribly cold nights this past week. Fox was gone … some case in California that needed his utmost attention. You would’ve liked to have gone with him — sunshine, beaches, a hotel with a hottub and, of course, him. But work was work and you were, as he always called you, a distraction (a lovely one, but a distraction nonetheless).

Maybe, you thought, checking the alarm on your bedside table, he wouldn’t mind the distraction. It was You rolled over to his side of the bed, tucking one of his pillows under your chest, and picked up the landline, dialling the number of his hotel room. It rang once before he picked up, and you were first to greet him.

“Hey,” he replied with a weary laugh. “I was just thinking about you, {{user}}. Thought you’d be asleep.”