Code Blue, as Gemma and Gillian had dubbed him, was actually quite handsome, in an older, red-neck sort of way. He was a few inches past six feet, with longish copper hair that clung to his head and neck. His eyes were a ridiculously noticeable shade of midnight blue, and depending on his mood, they actually looked almost black. His face was clean-shaven, though Gemma had seen him with some scruff every now and then. His posture was rigid, but his body was definitely fit. She could see even through his suit that he worked out. His broad shoulders gave him away. There were wrinkles on his brow and a frown on his lips. She wondered briefly if he ever smiled.

"Agent Dixon Black," her father boomed with pride, walking over to the agent and patting him on the back. Dixon didn't even move. "This man transferred over to us a couple of years ago from the FBI on the recommendation of a prestigious former agent. I can’t specify who. He's talented in field work, all kinds of physical fighting and what have you, and, if I'm not mistaken, has the best shot in the whole unit."

He cocked his head to the side, his only semblance of a response. Was it Gemma’s imagination, or did he look a tad uncomfortable at the attention?

"If he's such a good agent," Gemma began, doubt tainting her tone, turning so she could look at her father, "why are you having him baby-sit me? I know, I know; get married, pretend to get married, whatever. But isn't this sort of job like a rookie thing? Why are you having a seasoned agent look after me?"

"I thought it would be obvious, Gemma," Brent said, astonished that his daughter didn't see it from his point of view. "You are the most important thing to me, along with your mother. If I didn't trust Dixon with my life, then I wouldn't be putting him in charge of yours. I don't trust rookies with you. In fact, I don't trust any agent with you, really, except him. And as such, you should trust him too. Now, stand together, you two." He walked over to his daughter and helped her up.

"What?" Gemma all but yelped. "Why?"

"I want to see how the two of you look together," Brent said, positioning her by Dixon's side. "You know, get a feel for your chemistry together."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Brent," murmured Carlene, placing her head in her hand. Her gold bracelets clinked with every movement of her wrist.

"Well, it obviously has to be believable," Brent said to his wife, craning his neck over his shoulder to get a good look at her position adjacent to his desk. "I mean, we need people to actually believe they're together, and have been for a while."

"But it's not going to be believable," Gemma pointed out. "He's kind of old for me, isn't he? How old are you anyway, Code Blue? Forty? Forty-five?"

"I'm thirty-five," he replied with a slight, southern mumble, and cast her a steely look.

"That's fifteen years older than me!" she exclaimed. "That's, like, a decade and a half. Do you realize how old that is?"

"Oh, stop being such a prude," Brent said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm twelve years older than your mother."

"And Christian Bale is twenty years older than you," Carlene pointed out in a flat tone.

"That's a totally different story!" Gemma pointed out. "Christian Bale is…." She placed her hands over her heart and let out an incredibly content sigh. "Code Blue is…." She reached out her arms and gestured at him, making an uncertain face. "Don't get me wrong… I mean, he's good-looking in a… mature sense, but —"

"Oh, for the love of God," Brent said, rubbing his temples. "Gemma, you are showing a poor sense of maturity. Maybe Dixon will rub off on you." Gemma pursed her lips, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Dixon's lips twitch. There was no way he was actually fighting off a smile, was he? "And what is this 'Code Blue' nonsense? Some form of endearment?"

"No, it's not some form of endearment," Gemma said with exasperation. "It's like a code name for him. Gillian and I came up with it when we saw that he was catching up to us. You know Dad, if you don't want your agents becoming recognizable, you should have him wear contacts. His eyes are distracting."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Dixon asked in his rumble, and Gemma could see clearly there was a smirk on his face. Maybe it wasn't exactly a smile, but it was definitely a form of one.

"No, that was not supposed to be a – " Gemma stopped in midsentence and tried to control herself. "Look," she began again, this time more slowly, "I don't know how this is going to work, when everyone at my school knows that I have the biggest thing for Troy Carter, our quarterback."

"How come I haven't heard of this?" Brent asked, momentarily distracted.

"It doesn't matter," Carlene cut in. She uncrossed her legs and looked directly in her daughter’s eyes, paralyzing Gemma with her stare. "Listen Gemma, there are things we've kept quiet from you so you could live a normal life. I know you think it isn't necessary to have Rigsby and Fuller constantly following you around, but trust me, it is. I'm not telling you this to scare you, sweetie, but it has…." She paused for a moment, trying to find the words. "It has come to our attention that Rigsby and Fuller aren't enough. We need someone with you at all times, when we can't be with you and you aren’t in school. And since your father trusts Dixon, and Dixon has an outstanding track record, we thought this would be the best solution."