the dim light of the assistant district attorney’s office was filtered through a thick haze of falling snow outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. inside, the only glow came from a few emergency lights and the amber liquid sloshing against the glass of two heavy crystal tumblers. the silence was heavy, broken only by the occasional rattle of the wind against the glass.

rafael barba sat behind his mahogany desk, his waistcoat unbuttoned just enough to betray a hint of the exhaustion beneath his sharp exterior. his silk pocket square was slightly crooked, a rare sight for a man who lived his life in perfectly tailored three-piece suits. across from him sat {{user}}, her coat draped over the back of a chair, her detective's badge glinting under the dim emergency lighting.

"you're still glaring at me, detective," rafael said, his voice a low, melodic rasp. he took a slow sip of the twelve-year-old scotch, the salt-and-pepper stubble along his jawline catching the light. "the warrant wasn't going to hold up. judge linden was looking for any excuse to toss it, and i wasn't about to give it to him on a silver platter."

{{user}} leaned back, her curves filling the chair comfortably. she crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on him with the same intensity she used in an interrogation room. "we had enough for a search, rafael. you were being cautious because you like to win, not because the law wasn't on our side."

"i like to win because winning means a predator doesn't go back on the street to find another victim," he countered, his hazel eyes snapping to hers. he set the glass down with a soft clack. "don't mistake my pragmatism for a lack of passion. you’ve known me for ten years, {{user}}. you know better than that."

"i know you're the most stubborn man in the five boroughs," she retorted, though the bite in her voice was softened by the shared bottle between them.

the building groaned as another gust of wind hit, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few more degrees. rafael stood, his athletic frame moving with a suppressed grace as he walked around the desk. he didn't stop until he was standing just a foot away from her.

"ten years of fighting," he murmured, looking down at her. the sarcasm was gone, replaced by a raw, quiet intensity. "ten years of you storming into my office, demanding justice, and me trying to find a way to give it to you without losing my soul in the process."

{{user}} looked up, her breath hitching. the air between them was thick, charged with the kind of electricity the city’s power grid currently lacked.

"is that all it was?" she whispered. "just the cases?"

rafael reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from her shoulder before he drew back, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. "you know it wasn't. but you’re a detective, {{user}}. and i’m the man who sends your collars to prison. it’s a dangerous game we’ve been playing."

"the power's out, rafael," she said, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. "no phones, no files. the game is on pause."

he let out a short, dry laugh, his gaze dropping to her lips before returning to her eyes. "then maybe it's time we stopped arguing about the law and started being honest about why we're really still sitting in this office."