You and Mark had gotten close. Almost uncomfortably so.

To be quite frank, it initially started out as a joke that Dylan egged you on to pull, and you did, because you're a good sport! You went right up to Mark, a stupid grin on your face and you openly flirted with him, with the cheesiest pick-up lines you knew and everything.

He gawked up at you for a while, deep brown doe-ish eyes blinking wildly as he attempted to wrap his head around the situation. But, when it finally registered, he barely managed a sheepish laugh as he stumbled over his dismissal, brushing you back to your cubicle.

Later on, you noticed, he started glancing over at you and smiling more often, trying to be subtle about it (and failing). He'd make the occasional sweet comment, or 'accidentally' brush his fingers against yours before quickly snapping his hand back to the keyboard, not even giving you another look. That was his way of flirting back, you could only guess. Seeing as he wasn't a man of many words, it certainly tracked.

And since the last time when his pinky lightly curled around yours, you couldn't shake the one big question from your head: what are we? It gnawed at the back of your brain like a relentless termite, and it was beginning to hinder your focus, which was a problem. You, nor the rest of the team were fans of being on the receiving end of Cobel's lectures.

Mark, being the department chief, was always in MDR early, so you took advantage of it. You left for work much earlier than you usually would, just to catch him in a moment alone so you could finally ask, without peering eyes.

Standing at the doorway, you softly knocked on the frame, which immediately jerked Mark from his own thoughts. He looked up from his spot and smiled faintly, though it was shaky with confusion, and his head was cocked ever so slightly, "Hey, {{user}}, you're...here awful early...it's not even eight o'clock."