"*Smith's* brand of interest I can do without," Kate said.  She smiled 
at her dinner companion and made an effort to push the random thoughts 
about Agent Smith out of her mind.
She had almost written off the concerns she had had about Smith after 
her first meeting with him as a bad reaction to a stressful morning.  
In fact, she had only brought up the subject because she felt that it 
was expected.  But she hadn't missed the look on Josh's face when she 
mentioned the file.  He hid it well, but the idea had caused him some 
anxiety.  And that reaction told her not to dismiss this so easily.  
The missing lab sample troubled her, too.  Incidents such as that 
generally prompt very thorough investigations - unless the 
investigation is squelched at a *very* high level.  And what 
information might there be about this man that a director could not get 
access to?  It was a tantalizing little mystery!
"I can almost see what you're thinking," Josh said.  He was grinning, 
but the smile did not reach his eyes.  Instead, his eyes revealed that 
he did, in fact, know what she was thinking, and held a warning.
"Oh?  And what's that?"
"For what its worth, the best course of action is just keep your eyes 
open and otherwise pretend you never even met Smith."
"Now, that would be rather impolite of me, wouldn't it?  To invite you 
to dinner and then spend the whole time thinking about something else?  
Actually," she lied smoothly, "I was thinking that I'm beginning to 
feel a bit claustrophobic here."  She signaled the waiter for the 
check.
"Perhaps a walk in the park would cure that," Josh suggested.
"That sounds perfect."
They paid the bill, left the restaurant and headed down the street 
toward The Mall.  It was a warm night, with a clear sky and a new moon 
just visible over the surrounding buildings.  The streets, usually 
bustling with activity during the day, were more subdued.  A few 
tourists were walking about, a few die-hard workaholics were leaving 
their offices and some small groups were going to and from theaters and 
restaurants.  It was a side of the city Kate rarely had an opportunity 
to see, living as she did in the suburbs, and a side easily overlooked 
or forgotten.  They walked for a while in companionable silence, taking 
in the sights and sounds of the city at night, until they reached the 
park surrounding the Capital.  They sat down on a bench near the statue 
of General Grant.
"How long were you with forensics," Kate asked.
"About five years."
"Miss it?"
Josh shrugged.  "At times I suppose.  I usually don't have time to 
think about whether I do or not."
Kate laughed.  "So I've noticed.  And all these years I'd thought the 
desk jockeys had it easy!"
"And what about you?  The X-Files Division is a big change from the 
Hostage Rescue Team."  He paused for a moment, looking at her.  "And 
what drew you to that assignment, anyway?  Don't take this the wrong 
way, but you aren't exactly typical of those who join that division."
"Call it a macho streak," Kate said.  "Let's put it this way.  When I 
was in school, at recess while all the other little girls were playing 
with their Barbie dolls, I was off playing cops and robbers with the 
boys."
"And you were always the cop," Josh guessed.
"Of course!  I always got my man, too."
Josh raised an eyebrow.  "For some reason, that doesn't surprise me."
Kate opened her mouth to explain that she hadn't meant that quite the 
way it sounded, then thought better of it and just shrugged.  "You said 
it yourself.  I can be *very* persistent."
Josh nodded.  "That kind of persistence can sometimes get a person into 
trouble," he said in a way that made it clear what he was talking 
about.
She was caught, not quite prepared to admit either connotation of the 
conversation.  There were still too many unanswered questions about 
Agent Smith, but given the number of warnings she had received, she 
judged that it was probably unwise to pursue the issue.  Persistence 
was one thing, but at some point, it becomes foolishness - or 
foolhardiness.  In choosing battles, mere curiosity is not reason 
enough.  On the other hand, she couldn't help thinking about the story 
Josh had told her about the lab samples.  He was certain that one of 
them had been taken, and she had no reason to doubt him.  But that had 
to have been done for a reason, perhaps to prevent someone from being 
convicted of the crime - or to convict the wrong person.  And that 
might be reason enough.  She made a note to bring the subject up again, 
if and when the opportunity presented itself.
As for the other connotation, only time would tell.
"I can handle a little bit of trouble."  She got up from the bench and 
started toward the Reflecting Pool, then glanced back over her 
shoulder.  "Can you?"
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