He woke up alone in bed from the distinct smell of coffee. It took him some minutes to realise that that wasn't his bedroom and to remember the reason why that wasn't his bedroom. He put on something and followed the smell to the kitchen.

She was standing in front of the window and next to a small table. She would bring a mug to her lips every now and then. She seemed lost in thought and her shoulders were a little tense.

He silently looked around the kitchen from his place in the doorway. Not only the table was small, everything seemed quite small, cosy, warm even in its simplicity and minimalism. He hadn't expected her apartment to be warm, but it was and he was surprised. Maybe he didn't know her very well. Man, who am I kidding? I don't know her at all, he thought, feeling suddenly cold.

He had never felt nervous after having awesome sex with an awesome woman, so why was he freaking out this time?

"Hi", he said, and she jumped and turned in the blinking of an eye, almost spilling coffee from the mug. She set the mug on the table and then leaned a little on it, steadying herself. She opened her mouth once or twice, but didn't really know what to say, so she said nothing and just stared at him.

From the way she was clutching her hands he could tell she was freaking out as well. Well, she'd always managed to keep cool and calm about things, he really hadn't expected her to freak out. But he should have. Because she had just had sex with her boss who was twenty years older than her, and it was not the first time she did that, and the last time she did that, she ended up almost ruined, and because she was only twenty-five after all, and twenty-five year old girls do freak out on this kind of things. And not only twenty-five year old girls. No, I don't know her at all, he thought with a sigh.

She was just mesmerizing, and he had been mesmerized by her beauty and her intelligence and her elegance and innocence. Yes, he just had been mesmerized, and hadn't thought that she was fragile and in a difficult position and that he shouldn't have...

"Coffee?", she asked with possibly the fakest smile she'd ever come up with in her whole life. The most nervous for sure.

She was feeling week at the knees. She felt she had made a terrible mistake and she felt just miserable. She had thought she was much more powerful now than to fall again for a man like that, another womanizer who wanted to play cat and mouse with her. The delusion was strong: she was still not the woman she wanted to be. And then, she could not erase it all. Things would never be the same as before. The worst of it all was that she really liked working with Jack, because he challenged her and treated her au pair and actually listened to her opinion... Oh, who was she kidding? She liked him. Much. And not in a professional way. Actually, in a very very unprofessional way. She couldn't deny it anymore, she couldn't act like it never happened even if he asked her to for her own sake... Hell, how were they supposed to act like it never happened? His hands on her hips and his kiss and the way he held her firmly against the wall, the way he whispered in her ear Claire, Claire, where is your bedroom... she couldn't just forget all about it. She'd liked it much more than she should have. Keep him out of your bed, Adam had said. God, Claire, you only had to do that. It was not that difficult, she thought.

He nodded and she had trouble remembering what had been her question. When she actually remembered, and it took her two seconds at least, she went to pour some coffee in another mug. When he sipped it, he complimented her, but she was distant.

"So... what now?" she finally asked, looking at the floor, then flashing a look to his eyes.

She had been thinking about resigning and had come to the conclusion that that was the worst solution, but also the only one possible. He lifted her chin and looked her in the eye. Vulnerability, fear, pain, he saw it all in her eyes, even if she quickly turned her eyes away. She's thinking I'm just another smug bastard, he thought. But he wasn't a smug bastard, his ex-wives could say all they wanted. He just wasn't.

So he set on the table his mug and did the same with hers, taking it from her hands gently, brushing her fingers slightly. They were so cold. He cupped her face with his hands to keep her in place. He enjoyed for a second the puzzled look on her face, then leaned in and kissed her. Gentle, but not too gentle. When he broke away from the kiss, he didn't say anything and just looked in her eyes with a very serious look.

Now he says he loves me, she thought, and it's not true. And he doesn't mean it. She felt the urge to run away, curl in a ball in a very dark place and cry her soul out, but couldn't bring herself to make a move, his eyes piercing her in her spot.

He didn't say he loved her. He said instead: "Do you want to be with me?".

And she swallowed, hard. "I... I don't know", she stammered, obviously caught off-guard, and he laughed. She looked at him wide-eyed.

"Ok, ok", he replied, "But even if we're not together... Do you think you want to do it again? The sex I mean, not the morning after".

And there he laughed again, he really closed his eyes and laughed, resting his forehead on hers. And she laughed too this time and felt the tension leave her neck. Suddenly she felt light as a feather, blood draining from her face in relief and she hugged him to hide the tears of relief that were starting to glisten her eyes. What the Hell, I can't be so fucking emotional. Lawyers have no emotion, for God's sake!, she thought and managed to keep the tears to herself. Or at least so she thought, as Jack was shirtless and actually felt a little wet on his chest where her face rested. But he didn't say anything and just stroke the back of her head in silence, smiling.

She'd just kind of refused him and he was happy about it. I mean, it was unreal. He'd found her reaction utterly adorable. And the last thing he had found adorable was his daughter. Well, before she started talking. Before her mother took her away from him. He shook his head and his thoughts away. Then, at a certain point he felt her tense a little in his embrace.

She had just realized his chest was naked. And that she was crushed against it. Against his naked chest. It had taken her a while to notice. She felt once more the blood draining from her face, but for a totally different reason.

He pulled away from her just a little and looked at her. She really really really couldn't help looking at his chest. And blushing, furiously, when she noticed the amused look on his face. How could he feel that without even looking at me?, she asked herself, blushing a little more.

"Well", she said, to come out of the embarassing impasse, "I think we can... umm... do it again anytime"

He grinned. "What about now?", he asked.

"Yeah, why..", she gasped, when he lifted her on the table.

His forehead against hers. His eyes on hers.

"Why not?", she whispered.

Yeah, Claire, why not? Let's fuck this whole thing up some more, she thought. But then, at the end, her conscience finally shut up and the only things that existed were his hands and kisses and eyes and words, Claire, you're so fucking special.

She couldn't remember why she shouldn't believe him. And so she just prayed he would not let her down.