"Wren," He started, irritated by the delay. The suspect still had a hive of people swarming around him. Now was their chance.
But Wren wasn't interested in the case for some reason. She seemed to be studying something internally, and he guessed that she was evesdropping on a dozen private conversations. Wren suddenly reached out and gripped his arm with surprising force, her bright eyes popping open.
"Quick, go ask her to dance," Wren instructed randomly, pointing to a tall blonde who was lingering halfway across the room.
"What?" Graham responded, his eyebrows soaring incredulously.
"Her, over there." Wren waved her finger towards a youngish looking woman who seemed to be breathing and little else. She looked bored, tired and uncomfortable. "Go ask her to dance, Graham. It's very important." She gave him a gentle shove. Muttering under his breath, Graham grudgingly crossed the room.
"We're here to catch a criminal, and now I'm going to the prom." He shook his head, wishing Wren would keep her garbled methods to herself and leave him out of it.
Be sure to say, "May I have this dance?" Came a clear, bold message in his head.
Yes, thank you, I can take it from here. Graham shot back.
Just trying to help.
Well, you're not.
Mee-ow.
Oh shut up.
He cleared his throat, smiling weakly at the blonde.
"Care to dance?"
She looked surprised.
"Me? Oh, sure, why not?" She returned his smile with an even weaker one, and they danced. The song was short, fortunately and not too slow, lessening the awkwardness. Over his partner's shoulder, Graham saw Wren grinning smugly and sent a rainbow of glares back at her.
Ask her to dinner tomorrow night.
What?!
Please?
Why?
It's important.
You keep saying that, and yet, Uvarsky isn't in cuffs and I'm not getting a raise from Shapely. Still waiting for that, by the way. He glowered in her direction.
Oh, just do it. I'll go find a way to get Uvarsky myself.
Graham half opened his mouth to stop her, before realizing in the nick of time how schizophrenic he would appear shouting to a woman he hadn't been talking to the entire evening.
"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night?" He asked. The woman seemed even more surprised, with good reason, and Graham hastily introduced himself and mentioned one of Wren's favorite Italian restaurants that she had described to him in painful detail several days earlier. "I'd like to take you. I'll meet you there at eight tomorrow." He smiled with more confidence, being anxious to be on his way as fast as possible. The woman blushed and nodded, saying how lovely it would be. He thanked her for the dance and rushed off, quite forgetting even to ask for her name.
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