"Remember when you asked me what, exactly, I'd do to have you?" She ran her hands up to his collar, "I'd do that." With the sneakiest of smiles playing on her oh-so-close lips she picked up her notebook and left.
He watched her go, biting back the disappointment. Was it possible? No, she had to feel something. He could feel that she felt something.
With a sigh, he let himself out of the office and returned to his seat in the briefing room. He had the news in the front of his mind but mulling away in the back was growing resolve. He'd show her. He could have her, just like she could, perhaps more easily, have him. He just had to figure out how to get her to admit it.
The next day, mulling away behind the breaking news, was a plan. He start by giving her a break, helping her out and being a little less of a nuisance. Then he'd give her some space, let her miss him a bit, let her wonder what was going on. He'd return, ask a well worded question and leave before explaining himself, let her stew over it, over him, for a while.
After all that, he'd catch her on her way out one night, and he'd have discovered something, something big, but he'd only give her a morsel of it. He'd buy her dinner under the guise of business and then avoid the subject, banter the evening away, then leave early, leave her wanting more.
He wouldn't show up the next day, but he'd leave her a note.
"I need to talk to you. Meet me…"