From the angle out of his office window, Vince could see your brown Plymouth Acclaim parked outside. If he peered above his cubicle, he could see the corridor that led to the office where you worked.

He wasn't at his desk a lot, rather preferring to be on field missions rather than in the office, but it happened to be one of the slow days where apparently, the criminals and psychos were taking a break from fucking around. Unfortunately, that meant he couldn't shove his paperwork to his coworkers with the excuse that he was busy, and rather had to write his own reports.

Tapping unhappily at the computer, he looked up and just managed to catch a glimpse of you as you emerged through the corridor. He watched you walk towards him, his face turning red immediately after seeing you. You were wearing one of his work shirts as a jacket, layering it loosely around your own blouse and pencil skirt, clutching a stack of files that needed to be looked over. The sight was making a familiar haze cloud his head, making him sit up straighter and adjust the way he sat.

“You look great today.” He murmured quietly with a stupid grin as you passed by, trailing a hand across your thigh as you brushed against his desk. God, the sight of you was making it hard to think straight...