"What are you doing?"
He drops his hand, noting with relief that the papers fall back into place.
She steps up beside him and pats him on the back as he turns only his head to face her. "Thinking about the ones that got away again?" she asks him, a fair assumption given that he's standing in front of his fish-board.
He makes an affirmative sound then tells her, "There are some things I really wish I could remove from there."
She studies him for a moment, the slightest crease in her brow. Then she says, "We'll get there."
He turns to fully face her, changing the subject. "What can I do for you?"
She shrugs, her head tilting to the side as she replies, with a small smirk, "Maybe… give us our assignments?"
His eyes widen and he looks at his watch in surprise. He has completely lost track of time. "Sorry," he utters, moving quickly to his desk and gathering the night's assignments.
"Could I have mine? I need to call Lindsey," she asks him as they walk towards the door.
"Of course." He flicks through the small pile of documents and selects hers. "Here you go. Say hi to Lindsey for me."
She says she will, thanks him and they go their separate ways.
… … …
He won't realise that her phone call to Lindsey was a lie until the next time he is drawn to his fish-board.
When he looks for the photograph of himself and Catherine that he has hidden there, he won't find it.
But in its place, he'll find a post-it note. And a short message, written in a very familiar hand:
'I haven't got away.'