the scent of vanilla and toasted sugar followed {{user}} like a shadow, a soft contrast to the sterile, sharp-edged world of the district attorney’s office. she leaned against the doorframe of rafael's office, a pink cardboard box balanced on one hip. inside were the almond croissants he pretended not to crave.

rafael didn't look up immediately. his brow was furrowed, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the crisp white of his shirt beneath his vest. he looked every bit the intense, high-strung ada the city feared, his thumbs hooked under his suspenders as he muttered something in spanish to a stack of depositions.

"you look like you're losing a fight with a paper giant," {{user}} said softly, her voice cutting through his concentration.

rafael’s head snapped up. the tension in his jaw, usually set like granite, dissolved the moment his hazel eyes landed on her. he straightened his silk tie, though his gaze lingered on the way her floral dress hugged her curves.

"it’s a triple homicide, {{user}}. the paper giant is currently winning by a landslide," he replied, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. he checked his watch, a habit he couldn't break, but his movements were slower now, more intentional. "you're late. olivia said you were coming by an hour ago."

"the sourdough didn't want to cooperate," she teased, walking further into the room. the floorboards creaked under her weight, a sound that usually annoyed him when it was a detective, but with her, it felt like a rhythm. she set the box on his mahogany desk, right on top of a legal brief. "besides, i had to make sure these were still warm. i know how picky you are about your 'fuel'."

rafael leaned back, his eyes tracking her as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. the age difference between them usually felt like a canyon of experience and cynicism, but in the quiet of his office, it felt like nothing at all. he reached out, his fingers grazing the box and for a second, her hand.

"i'm not picky," he lied, his thumb brushing against her skin for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "i’m precise. there’s a difference."

"right. precise," {{user}} echoed, a small smile playing on her lips. "is that why you've been staring at the same page for ten minutes?"

rafael let out a dry, short laugh, the kind he only ever gave her. he stood up, his lean, athletic frame towering over her just enough to make her breath hitch. he smelled of expensive scotch and cedarwood.

"it’s a very complex page," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth before snapping back to her eyes. "stay. for five minutes. tell me something that doesn't involve the penal code."

"only five?" she asked, tilting her head.

rafael sighed, a genuine, relaxed sound that would have shocked his colleagues across the hall. "make it ten. the paper giant can wait."