Ok, folks. I know some of you asked for a second chapter. Well, here you go! I don't think its as good as my first but I figured I just give it a shot. Sorry if you find it terrible. I'm still getting used to this FanFic things. Enjoy!

NCIS Agent Merri Brody felt safe, warm, and comfortable. She was surrounded by the delicious, spicy, musky scent of her partner, Agent Chris LaSalle. She stirred in her sleep and stretched out her hands, searching for him. When she felt nothing but empty bed sheets and not her partner or the couch she'd fallen asleep on Brody snapped wide awake.

Warm sunlight was streaming through the curtain-less windows, painting the bedroom a cheerful yellow. Brody lifted her head and looked around, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She couldn't recall how she got into LaSalle's bed. Now that she was awake, Brody realized that the bed wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as the couch had been.

LaSalle must've brought me here after I passed out last night, she thought.

Her drowsy brain easily accepted this as the truth and this wiped away any and all worry and confusion. Brody stretched leisurely and ran her fingers through her sleep rumpled hair. She peeked out one of the windows and felt a smile grace her face. The New Orleans' skyline was a smooth baby blue. There wasn't a single trace of clouds or foul weather.

"Ah, you're up!" LaSalle's cheerful drawl reached her ears and she turned her head to look at him. "Nice to see that you've finally decided to join the land of the living, Brody."

He was standing in the doorframe in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, looking as handsome as ever. His blue eyes were sparkling with their normal merriment and mischief and in his hands he held a dinner tray. It was loaded with all the fixings.

Brody's eyes widened and her jaw dropped a little. She saw that there was a steaming cup of coffee, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, a towering stack of hot waffles, a bowl of fresh strawberries dolloped with whip cream, a small container of butter, a bottle of syrup, and a tiny vase with a single daisy.

"What's all this?" She asked, not trying to hide her astonishment.

LaSalle grinned widely, placing the tray over her lap, "If you must know, Brody, it's not often that I've got guests over. I figured I'd treat you to breakfast in bed."

The smell wafting up from the coffee and waffles made her mouth water, "You didn't have to, LaSalle. You're spoiling me."

"Then consider yourself spoiled, Brody. You deserve it." He sat down at the foot of the bed and eyed her up, concern now etching his blue gaze, "How are you feeling by the way?"

She swallowed the big bite of waffle she'd taken before she answered, "I'm feeling much better. A day of rest was just what the doctor ordered."

He gave a shy smile, "I hope your nurse did well enough?"

"He did great." She returned his smile.

LaSalle nodded and proceeded to fill her in on what she missed while she was asleep, "Pride called a little while ago; asked how you were doing. I told him that you could probably do with another day of just relaxing before you're completely up to par."

He stepped out of the room for a brief moment and came back with a colorful beach bag. He sat back down on the bed again and placed the bag next to Brody.

At the confusion in those brown eyes of hers LaSalle said, "Gift from Loretta. She swung by and dropped off some of clean clothes for you and asked me to wish you well."

Brody took a swig of the orange juice, "That was thoughtful of her. Did you tell her thanks for me?"

"Of course." He said. He looked at her plate with approval, "It's good to see that your appetite is back."

She playfully kicked out one of her feet, catching him in the thigh. LaSalle caught her bare foot, running a finger from heel to toes and back down again. Brody squealed like a little girl and fell into a fit of giggles.

"My, my, my," LaSalle teased, Alabama drawl bright and playful, "Don't tell me that Agent Brody is ticklish now."

He repeated the treatment on her foot and poor Brody, being pinned beneath the food tray, couldn't fight back. She was lost in a fit of giggles. He joined in with his partner's laughter, enjoying himself more then he'd be willing to admit.

"LaSalle," Brody said between laughing fits, "Oh…you…bully! That's not fair!"

LaSalle only messed with her a few seconds more before he released her. He patted the back of Brody's calf. The Alabama native reached up and took the empty tray from his partner.

"Up and at 'em, Brody. I've got the whole day planned out."

"Whole day?" She asked, "Don't you got to go into work?"

"Nah." He said with a shrug and an award winning smile filled with mischief, "Pride gave me the day off. Said to keep an eye out on you. You know, to make sure you're alright."

"Why do I have a feeling that you told Pride I'm sicker then what I am?"

LaSalle graced her with a wink as he stood up again, "It'll be our little secret."

Then he was gone, leaving her to change. Brody chuckled, feeling herself grow excited. She hasn't played hooky since high school and her early college days. She never knew that LaSalle had that small streak of rebellion within him.

Brody opened the beach bag and rolled her eyes to the heavens, a small smile tugging at her lips. Loretta had managed to find one of her few dresses. It was a spaghetti strapped yellow sundress with the bottom of the skirt embroidered with daisies. The waist of the dress was wrapped, giving the wearer an hourglass shape.

Loretta had also found her most comfortable walking sandals that buckled at her ankles. They were made out of soft leather and were dyed a creamy tan with a tiny gold buckle. Loretta had also stowed away a stick of deodorant and Brody's favorite perfume.

She used these gratefully and then Brody flattened out the wrinkles in her dress and looked around for a mirror. Seeing none, she settled on using a window. She finger combed her hair, smoothing it into place.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say Loretta is playing match maker, Brody thought as she studied herself in the window.

She walking into the living and LaSalle stood a moment in silence, too stunned for words. She realized that he had the daisy from breakfast in one of his hands. Before Brody had time to register what was happening, he had tucked it behind one of her ears.

"Don't you look as pretty as a picture," LaSalle drawled, eyeing her approvingly, "You don't look to shabby in a dress. If it's not too bold for me to say?"

His impeccable southern charm made her all gooey on the inside.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Was her reply, hiding the fact of how easily affected she was by his words.

What changed between us yesterday? She asked herself mentally.

With a smirk, LaSalle snagged up his house keys and held his apartment door open for her, "Come on then, Brody. Let's go paint this town."

With a skip in her step, she let LaSalle usher her out of his front door. It was a warm, sunny day in New Orleans and so the duo decided to ditch the truck and just walk. The French Quarter in which LaSalle lived was bustling about like a beehive. There was both a craft show and a farmer's market going on. Vendors were busy calling out bargains for their goods and the farmers were haggling with customers like seasoned pros.

Whatever stall Brody wanted to inspect, her partner let her. They sampled fresh fruits and veggies, got to test taste homemade wines, and ogled at items that were well above what they could easily afford. However, it was nice to imagine owning such items.

LaSalle turned out to be a great haggler himself. In no time Brody, who didn't have time to tell her partner no, found herself wearing a beautiful new necklace of faux pearls. LaSalle himself took the honor of clasping it around her neck.

"Looks perfect on you, Brody."

That man can charm the habit right off of a nun!

At one point, there was a local band of musicians playing good old fashioned jazz music. For a few minutes the duo just stood there among the mass of viewers. They listened, letting the tune wash over them, bopping their heads and tapping their feet to the melody. LaSalle cast a sideways look at his partner.

He was taken aback by just how pretty she was in a dress and having the sunlight in her hair. Without a second thought, he grabbed Brody's hand and pulled her through the crowd, leading her to the small gap between band and listeners.

"What are you doing, LaSalle?" Brody asked with a startled squeak, brown eyes wide and slightly frightened.

He placed a hand on her hip and with the other took a firm, yet gentle, hold of her hand, "Isn't it obvious, Brody? I'm going to dance with my partner."

"I can't dance!"

He pulled her flush to him, their chests touching, and told her to place a hand on his waist, "Just follow my lead, Brody. Trust me."

Blue eyes locked onto brown and she nodded instantaneously. Of course she trusted him. Brody trusted LaSalle more than anyone else on the whole planet. Releasing a deep breath, Brody lowered her guard down and allowed her partner to take control, letting him take the lead. Brody thought he was going to do an ordinary dance with her. Never could she have been so wrong. LaSalle led her into a simple waltz, one that Brody felt was of his own making. The steps were simple enough for her to follow. For a short while Brody had watched her feet but, once they began to move faster, she lifted her gaze and found LaSalle's full attention upon her. The way he looked at her made her feel like the only woman in the world.

But, once he got her loosened up, LaSalle gave her a wink and then took the dance up a notch. He spun her, making her skirt twirl like a ballet dancer's, and he dipped her. He even lifted her up and spun around. LaSalle, as in all aspects of his life, was confidant and sure of himself and he was an experienced dancer. Not once did he give her a misstep or cause her to stumble.

At the end of the song both of them were smiling like idiots. They breathing fast, hot breath fanning each other's' faces, hearts racing in excitement and joy, cheeks flared, and gazes ablaze. The musicians and viewers cheered offered them a round of applause and LaSalle, ever the gentleman, brought the back of Brody's hand to his lips and planted a kiss upon her knuckles.

The band began to play a faster song and he cocked an eyebrow at his partner, silently asking if she'd like to have another go. She shook her head, hand still in his and grinning widely.

"One's good enough for me." Brody said.

He pulled her back through the crowd, "Let's grab lunch then. I know the perfect place."

"Don't you always?" She asked playfully.

"One of the perks of being a southern boy."

Hand in hand, LaSalle led his partner to a small cozy shack-like building. There was a colorful, cheerful sign painted with neon letters that read: UNCLE LOUIE'S & GRANDMA VOODOO'S JOINT. There was a chalkboard that had the 'Today's Specials' written on it. Looking through the window, Brody could see that the inside was packed.

Luckily, for the pair, there were a few outside seats. There were two round wooden tables surrounded by comfortable looking barstools with large umbrellas to block out most of the blinding sun light. LaSalle pulled out a chair for his partner and gave her a leg up. He took the seat across from her.

They could smell the food wafting through the door. Their mouths began to water and their stomachs growled. After having been seated for several moments in a comfortable silence, a young blond waitress came out.

"Hiya, LaSalle!" She said cheerfully, "Who's your pretty lady friend here?"

LaSalle chuckled warmly, "Brody, this is Emma. Emma, this is my partner from work, Brody."

Brody flashed the girl a warm smile and Emma smiled back.

"Let me fetch some menus for you guys. What would you like to drink?"

LaSalle cocked a finger at Emma and she dipped her head. He whispered in her ear and the girl's eyes filled with amazement. She shot a look at Brody and almost didn't conceal her giggle.

"Coming right up."

Emma slipped back into the diner and made a beeline straight for the kitchen. Through the window, Brody watched the young girl chat with a large, rotund black man, who was dressed like a chef, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. They appeared to have a short, feverish chat before the large man made an excited movement and came towards them.

"Chris!" The man cried. His accent was pure Cajun. "So good to see you again my boy! And who, may I ask, is this lovely lady?"

He gave Brody a dramatic bow, planting a soft kiss upon the back of her hand. Flattered, Brody's cheeks flamed a bright red and her voice left her. LaSalle gave her a grin, looking at her from under his eyelashes.

"Uncle Louie, this is Agent Brody, my partner from work. Brody, this is Louie, best Cajun cook in these parts."

"You flatter, Chris!" Louie boomed merrily, "Have you two had a chance to look over the menu yet?"

Brody's voice reappeared, "No. Young Miss Emma was supposed to retrieve us a copy."

"Ah, well no worries. I'll cook you two up something real special that can't be found on the menu. My treat. What do you say?"

"Sounds just perfect, Uncle Louie." LaSalle said.

Beaming, Louie sprinted back off towards his kitchen. For being a larger man, he was quite light on his feet. Emma snuck past him and came back to their table carrying a chilled bottle of bubbling wine in a bucket of ice and two fluted glasses. Wide eyed, Brody stared at LaSalle with questions in her gaze.

He merely smiled politely back at her, neither taking nor giving information. Their waitress poured them each a glass and set the bucket or ice and wine down on the table. She wished them to enjoy and disappeared again.

Brody took a sip and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet flavor against her tongue.

"Thank you, LaSalle." She said.

"Don't mention it." He said, resting his elbow on the table and leaning in closer to her.

"No, seriously, thank you, Chris." She repeated, leaning in as well. "For everything. Thank you for taking care of me and putting up with me yesterday and thank you for treating me to an amazing day…I've had the greatest of times today."

She had meant to just give him a friendly peck on the cheek to give her words a little more meaning. But LaSalle, not knowing what she was about to do, turned his head at the last moment. Once her lips touched his fireworks exploded.

LaSalle snaked his fingers into her hair and she cupped a hand to the back of his neck. It wasn't a simple, soft gentle kiss. Nor was it a sloppy, hurried wild kiss. It was a kiss of unchecked passion and filled with all the words they couldn't say and feelings they never dared to show. At the feel of his tongue against hers, Brody knew that she was lost.

LaSalle brushed his lips against hers for a moment longer, whispering words against her lips that only she was meant to hear. He never wanted the kiss to stop. But, all good things must come to an end. Reluctantly, he pulled away, dropping his hand so that he held onto hers, brushing his thumb across her knuckles.

"Don't mention it, Merri." He said gently, "It's been my pleasure."

The End