Audrey didn't really care for chocolate milkshakes; she preferred butterscotch, or neopolitan. The kitchen staff would have made her neopolitan if they'd known it was for her.

They didn't, though, and it was her Special Agent who had ordered the milkshakes. So Audrey smiled at him, crosslegged on the bed with her toes still tucked under the covers, and sipped delicately at the drink. Dale smiled back and she felt her heart flip-flop and shimmy.

"You're a very remarkable girl, Audrey," he told her. He shook a moderate amount of salt over his french fries and ate them plain. Audrey watched, transfixed, as he consumed them one by one, fastidious.

"Well, I think the same thing about you, Agent Cooper." She wondered briefly if her voice sounded too babyish, too breathy. She wondered if that was why he'd rebuffed her advances. But in the nicest possible way! she scolded herself. And there was plenty of time to get to know him; after all, Laura's murder was bound to be like Laura herself -- difficult and complicated.

Audrey dug her toes into the mattress and Dale frowned thoughtfully. "You know," he began, "it must be quite interesting living in a hotel. All the different people, coming and going, getting to know them for that brief moment before they whoosh off somewhere else...."

"Oh, it is." Audrey didn't bother to mention that she rarely mingled with the guests; she preferred to watch them from afar. Her father called it "spying and sneaking", but then he was narrow-minded. She reached for her plate of fries and added, "But some of them are more interesting than others."

Dale smiled widely at her and toasted her with his milkshake. Audrey loved chocolate.

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