The museum is quiet except for the murmur of distant visitors. I adjust my glasses, examining the David statue with a critical eye, but my attention keeps drifting to the group gathered nearby. Five people - four I barely know and one I know too well - are having a whispered conversation that keeps drawing my gaze.

"Nate, you can't just make somebody do what you want them to do," I hear myself saying before I can stop it.

Parker turns toward me with that unnerving direct stare of hers. "Whoa. That's what we do. You're adorable."

The words sting slightly, delivered with the same blunt honesty I've come to recognize from her. The others exchange glances, and I feel that familiar mix of frustration and fascination with this group who continue to defy all my expectations.

Four months ago, I believed Sophie, Eliot, and Hardison were completely different people than the ones sitting in front of me. I didn't even remember Parker.

But then, I wasn't looking for deceit. Not from them. I was too concerned with Nate, believing he was living in his car while he worked this case with me.

Maybe it was misdirection. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I cared too much about him when I should have been concentrating on verifying the David statue's authenticity.

Or maybe they were just really good at what they did.

Whatever the reason, I find myself wanting to know more - about the job, about their methods, about how they've managed to become this strange family unit that somehow includes me, even at the edges.

"So, how does one make someone do something, exactly?"

The five of them smile, and against my better judgment, I feel my own lips tug upward in response.

Adorable. Right. Maybe I can make that work for me.