A/N: So after binge watching Designated Survivor in the last week, I, of course, felt the need to write an Aaron/Emily scene, especially since recent episodes have been lacking! Though I'm sure you'd never see a scene like this on the show, I like to challenge myself to keep them in character in situations they probably wouldn't ever get into. I have fun with it, so I hope you enjoy. Might add some one shots to this in the future, so let me know what you think! Thanks :)
Aaron felt like an idiot, to put it mildly, as he approached the door in front of him. This was a bad idea. This would not go well. He knew that. Yet he reached up and knocked, three times.
And then he waited.
He glanced at his watch. Almost ten o'clock.
He knocked three more times. "Emily? Are you home?"
Nothing.
What else could he try? Kicking the door down?
"Em?"
Aaron was about to turn and step away when the door finally opened slightly.
"Aaron?" came a raspy voice that hardly sounded like Emily's. She opened the door a little wider, squinting up at him as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight.
The words Aaron had planned to say fell from his mind as he took in her messy hair, her oversized t-shirt and plaid shorts.
"What are you doing here?"
"Do you know what time it is?" he questioned, more sharply than he'd intended. He recognised a feeling of relief instantly wash over him as he registered the fact that, no, she wasn't in danger. And somehow, that relief was exhibiting itself as frustration.
"What?" she stared at him quizzically. "No. What time is it?"
"It's past ten. You've missed two meetings and a phone call this morning."
Her eyes widened instantly as her hand came to her mouth. "No, no, no." She turned and walked into her house, leaving her door open behind her.
Was that an invitation to come in? Probably not, he decided.
Aaron watched as she staggered through her living room and disappeared into what he could only assume was her bedroom. "Emily, where are you-"
The slamming of her bedroom door cut off his words. Now what?
He felt a small grin form on his lips as he shook his head in amusement. A flustered Emily Rhodes was a rare sight. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd witnessed it.
Several moments later, she reappeared, phone in hand. "Alarm didn't go off."
"I tried to call you two or three times."
"Funny," she commented as she re-approached her front door. "My phone says eight missed calls."
"Well," he stammered, "it's not like you to not show up for work."
Emily groaned and leaned her head against the door frame.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern rising once again.
"Yeah. Just a headache."
"Sounds like you've lost your voice."
"And a sore throat," she conceded.
"Are you coming down with something?" Aaron tried to keep the concern from his voice.
She shook her head and stepped backward into her house. "No, I'm good. Thanks, Aaron. You'd better get back."
"Why don't you get ready and I can drive you to work?"
"Oh no, I don't want you to go out of your way," she protested meekly.
"Em." Aaron stifled a laugh. "We work at the same place. You're not well. This way, you can take it easy for a while."
She seemed to consider that. "Yeah, okay," she finally responded. "That'd be nice."
Aaron felt himself smile in response as she opened the door a little wider, gesturing for him to come in. He'd never been to her house before. He considered her a friend, sure. They'd been working together over a year now, but aside from a failed attempt at a date many months back, they'd kept their interactions fairly centred around work.
Thing was, in their line of work, even with its fast-paced nature, it had been hard for him to resist forming a bond with a few of his co-workers - namely, her, Seth, even the president, really. The matters they dealt with were often ones of life and death. And she dealt with each of them with integrity, grace, and an incredible wisdom far beyond her years. They frequently disagreed. And he had all too frequently had to admit she'd been right.
And somehow, in midst of all the meetings and phone calls and arguments and tough calls and tragedies and triumphs, his admiration for her had only grown. Steadily. To a disconcerting degree, actually.
Aaron stepped inside, finding amusement in the fact that her house was in a sort of disarray he wouldn't have expected from her.
"I'll just shower quickly and be ready as soon as I can."
"Sure."
"Are you sure you don't mind waiting?"
"No, it's fine," he assured her.
He followed as she walked into her kitchen, filled a glass with water and popped two Advil. In the moments she was distracted, he let his eyes fall to her current state of dress, one he was certainly not familiar with. He'd only ever seen her looking pretty perfect, for lack of a better word. He knew she made a special effort to dress professionally - something about people taking her more seriously, she'd once said. Her hair was always perfectly in place. He'd never even seen her without make-up, he now realised.
The warmth he felt towards her - the kind he often tried to push back - washed over him. He liked this version of Emily. This off-guard, unrehearsed, unprepared version. The tangled hair, the baggy grey t-shirt and shorts, the bare feet. Adorable was the word that came to mind, though he wished it hadn't.
He forced his eyes off her and his sight wandered to a series of magnets and photographs on her refrigerator. A magnet of the White House he'd have thought only a tourist would buy, a photo with two people he assumed were her parents, a few photos with friends he didn't know, a postcard from Hawaii. And he couldn't help but notice the picture of her, Seth and himself featured in her collection.
"Do you remember that one?" she asked, clearly aware he'd spotted the photo.
"Yeah. That was the night of Kirkman's 'Our time has come' speech."
"And your first day back," she added with a small smile.
"A pretty good day all-round," he grinned.
Her smile faded as she lifted a hand to her head, steadying herself with her other hand against the kitchen counter.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Aaron instinctively stepped towards her, but stopped short of reaching for her.
"Yeah." She exhaled sharply. "Yeah. Just felt a bit dizzy. It's gone now."
"Are you aching?"
"Yeah, but the Advil will help with that."
"Do you have a fever?"
"No," she responded quickly.
Aaron looked at her pointedly.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe."
Somewhat cautiously, he stepped towards her again, lifting his hand to her forehead, then against her cheek. Her closeness distracted him for a brief moment and he felt his resolve falter as his hand remained in place moments longer than it should have. "Yeah, you have a fever," he finally got out, voice lower and rougher than it ought to have been. He cleared his throat and brought his hand down, somehow unable to bring himself to step away. "You really should stay home."
"I can't. I've got so much on today."
"I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow."
"I've got a full day tomorrow as well."
She hadn't stepped away from him either, he noticed.
"Just rest today, drink lots of water. With any luck, you'll be back by tomorrow."
She looked up at him, her expression determined and slightly annoyed before slowly fading to an expression of defeat. "Fine."
"Good girl."
And just like that, the annoyed expression returned. "You'd better not slack off while I'm gone."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Emily knew she was sick. Probably just the flu or something. But the only thing worse than going to work right now would be staying home from work, she thought. Yet, she really didn't have a choice. She wasn't thinking clearly today. Her voice was hoarse and raspy enough that no one would take her seriously. And she also kind of felt like throwing up, now that she thought of it. And then the aches all over her body.
Plus, if she hadn't mentally listed it already, she was pretty sure she wasn't thinking clearly. Because she had let Aaron stand way too close earlier. And she'd enjoyed it way too much. If she was being honest, she was pretty touched that he'd come all the way out to her house to check on her.
She finally forced herself to step away from him, leaning back against the counter for support. When she'd first scrambled out of bed to open the door, she'd thought the dizziness was a result of getting up too quickly. But it hadn't really gone away. It wasn't until she'd opened the door to Aaron that the reality of her symptoms started setting in.
"Thanks for checking in, Aaron." She moved to show him to the door, but stopped when he didn't follow. "You'd better get back. The whole administration could fall apart with both of us missing."
She'd meant the last part as a joke, but she noticed the humour didn't reach her tone. Fortunately, it still got a chuckle out of him.
He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. She'd seen that look before. Quite a few times, actually. Theirs wasn't the sort of relationship where they could be open with each other about a lot of things. She'd pretty much sealed that part away when she practically accused of him treason back in the day. She was pretty sure he didn't hold that against her anymore, but even so, somewhere along the line, there'd been some sort of mutual agreement to keep things more professional between them. It had been for the best. They worked together like clockwork most of the time, and she wasn't willing to trade that in for relationship drama.
When he still didn't speak and he still didn't make a move to leave, she looked at him quizzically. "What's up, Aaron?"
"Do you have someone you can call?"
"For what?"
"Well," he gestured in her direction, "someone to-" he cut himself off. "Look, I'm not saying you need someone to look after you because I know you'll deny it."
"Sure will."
"You're not well, Emily. I don't feel right leaving you here on your own."
"Look, I'll be fine. I'll just sleep most of the day anyway."
He didn't seem satisfied with her answer, but he nodded. "If you're sure."
As she closed the door behind the departing Aaron, she felt an irrational sense of regret.
Ridiculous.
She'd make some phone calls to make sure things were looked after in her absence, she'd have a shower, she'd fall asleep on the couch and will whatever sickness she had to go away.
Good plan.
Emily squeezed her wet hair into a towel as she contemplated her, as yet, failing plan to get better in a day. The shower was supposed to be refreshing. Instead, the heat of the water had just added to her dizziness. On top of that, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to sleep if she tried. Her mind was far too distracted by things going on at work today that were now out of her control. Maybe if she just checked her emails one more-
A knock at the front door interrupted Emily's thoughts. Who could that possibly be?
She dropped the wet towel onto the floor, headed for her front door and peered through her peephole.
Aaron.
Had he forgotten something? It had been at least half an hour since he'd left.
Her first thought was that she should open the door. Her second was that he'd probably think she was a slob for putting her pyjamas back on after her shower. Her extremely unattractive pyjamas.
And why does that matter?
Until today, Aaron had seen her in entirely professional attire. Even in the rare times they'd seen each other outside of work, she had still been dressed for work. She knew she should be mortified at the state he'd seen her in earlier, though for some reason, she wasn't. In fact, she'd felt oddly comfortable having him in her house, even with the mess it was in.
Emily blinked the thoughts away and briefly squeezed her eyes shut in some vain hope it would clear her head. Then she opened the door.
"Hey," he said simply, with a smile she could only describe as nervous.
"Hi." Her attempt at keeping the surprise from her voice had been unsuccessful.
"I just-I brought you some things to help you feel better."
She couldn't help but smile at that.
"Cold and flu medication, cough drops, tissues, some sort of eucalyptus thing, chicken soup. It's all in there." He nodded to the bags in his hands.
"That was really sweet. Thank you."
"Em, let me stay."
The words, though surprising, didn't take her aback so much as her awareness of the fact that she really wanted to say yes.
How could she say no to those hopeful eyes? It wasn't fair. The look on his face right now, the concern, the warmth - it was enough to melt her resolve. Almost.
"Please," he added, voice barely audible.
Stay strong, Emily. You'll be fine without him. This isn't a good idea.
"Okay," she heard herself say.
What? Did she really break that easily?
The look of surprise on his face was enough to elicit a small laugh. "Wow," he grinned. "That was easier than I thought. I had a whole speech prepared. I even thought about having Seth read over it."
"Call it a weak moment." She rolled her eyes and stepped aside, allowing him, once again, into her house. "Excuse the mess," she said as she leaned down to pick up a bundle of clean laundry from the arm of the couch.
"No, don't clean. I'm here so you can rest. You cleaning kind of defeats the purpose."
"So I'm supposed to let you roam around my messy house whilst I sleep?"
"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, putting his bags on her kitchen bench, ignoring her question.
"Not hungry," she responded, disobeying his orders as she hurriedly threw the pile of clothes from the couch back into the laundry. This man may have seen her in her pyjamas, but seeing a pile of her clothes and underwear strewn across the arm of the couch was a little too much. She briefly panicked as she tried to recall the state of her bathroom. When was the last time she'd cleaned it? She was pretty sure her make-up and hair straightener were sitting out on the vanity.
Aaron re-entered her living room from the kitchen with a bottle of water in hand. "Emily, stop stressing. I don't care that your house is a pig sty."
"Wow."
"Just sit."
She obeyed and he handed her the water.
"Make sure you drink plenty."
"Sure thing, Dr Shore."
He chuckled at that. "If I make you a ginger tea, will you drink it?"
Emily scrunched her face and shook her head. "You know I don't drink herbal tea."
"Except Goji Kombucha?"
"That's green tea."
"Can you make an exception? It's good for you."
She rolled her eyes. "I'll have a sip."
"Good enough."
Aaron returned a few minutes later with the tea he knew she wouldn't drink. She'd stretched out across the couch, one arm resting across her face as if to block out the light. He placed the tea on the coffee table and moved to sit on the sofa on the other side of it. He frowned at the pile of books sitting where had planned to. Books, receipts, unopened mail and - was that a pack of cigarettes? Wow, he was learning a lot today.
"Aaron."
He turned back to her, surprised to find she wasn't asleep.
She tucked her legs up, leaving room on the couch for him. "You can sit here."
He did as he was told, sitting back into her soft couch. He looked over at her briefly, still unable to process the fact that he was in Emily's house, on her couch, while she lay on that couch in her pyjamas. Strange turn of events.
"Those aren't my cigarettes," he heard her mumble so quietly he barely made out the words.
"What?"
"The cigarettes over there - they're not mine, just so you know."
"Hey, I'm not judging."
"I took them off one my staffers who's trying to quit."
"Okay." He thought better than to ask why she hadn't thrown them in the trash.
"Do you wanna turn on the news?"
He laughed. "Nope."
He did, actually. He hadn't had a real day off work in far too long. It was killing him not to know what was going on.
"Why not?"
"If I turn on the news, you'll go into work mode."
"I just want to see how the polls are looking."
"I thought you and Kirkman didn't care about the polls?"
She pulled her arm away from her face and looked up at him. "He doesn't. I just pretend not to."
"Insightful," he commented, to which she responded with a light kick to his thigh which was positioned just next to her feet.
"Besides Senator Barton was supposed to announce-"
"You're a workaholic, you know that?"
"We both are. We all are."
He couldn't argue with that. And then she continued. And so did he. Rambling about policies, about tomorrow's press conference, about meetings and hearings. Work talk was comfortable for them. They argued about it. They laughed about it. They strategized and complained and went back to arguing. He guessed it took her half an hour to wear herself out. Her responses became softer and she spoke through closed eyes, having rolled onto her side several minutes ago.
When she failed to answer a question of his, he gathered she'd fallen asleep.
She'd been sleeping about ten minutes when she stretched out her legs, resting her feet in his lap. He couldn't deny it brought a smile to his lips, even if he felt slightly uncomfortable about it. He wondered if he should move. Would she have rested her feet there had she been awake? Probably not. If he moved though, she'd definitely wake up and she needed sleep.
In the midst of his inner dialogue, she rolled onto her back, shifting her feet in his lap. She opened her eyes briefly and looked up at him before her head fell back against the arm of couch on which it had been resting. She released something between a sigh and a groan. "Sorry, Aaron."
"You're fine," he responded lightly, not entirely sure what she was apologising for. "As long as you're comfortable."
"I can't decide if I'm hot or cold."
"That'd be the fever talking. Can I get you a blanket?"
She shook her head, eyes closed. "No, I think I'm good."
It was only seconds later that he was pretty sure she'd gone back to sleep, her feet still in his lap.
Emily swallowed against the feeling of sandpaper in her throat. Where was that bottle of water Aaron had given her? How long had she been asleep?
She shifted herself on the couch, still unable to get completely comfortable, very aware that her feet were still on Aaron's lap and being very careful not to move them anywhere…awkward. She was pretty sure she'd apologised earlier for putting them there. It was inappropriate. It was so not them. But he hadn't seemed phased by it, so in the interest of comfort, she'd left them.
She forced her tired eyes open, squinting as they adjusted to the dim light in the room. Aaron was on his phone, typing away, eyes focussed. "And you said I was the workaholic," she somehow managed to say through the dryness in her throat.
He looked over at her. "What makes you think I'm working."
"You have that face."
"What face?"
"I don't know. Your work face. You'd think I'd recognise it by now."
"I'm just responding to emails."
Slowly, Emily pushed herself up and swung her legs to the floor, now sitting next to him. "Everything okay?"
"Nothing to worry about, Em."
"See, when you say that, it makes me worry."
"Well, you'll just have to trust me." He put his phone on the arm of the couch and looked down at her as he said it. She couldn't help but read into his words. She did trust him, she realised. In fact, not trusting him earlier had been her one big mistake since she'd started working for the President of the United States.
She leaned forward and grabbed the mug of tea from the coffee table, deliberately breaking eye contact with him.
"It's cold now," he warned.
Emily shrugged and took a sip, desperate to feel the moisture against her throat. The taste was as bad as she expected it to be, and the chuckle he gave let her know he could see the disgust on her face. "How long was I asleep for?"
"Not long." He glanced down at his watch. "Half an hour."
It had felt like longer than that. So frustrating. She put the mug down and leaned back into the couch, closing her eyes once again.
She was all too aware that she was sitting very close to him, almost leaning against him, now that she thought of it. Their arms were touching and the angle she was at meant her left knee was resting against his right leg. Yet somehow she was comfortable.
Minutes later, through the grogginess of a half-sleep state, she felt her head drop to his shoulder. His body tensed slightly, enough that she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"You okay there?" he asked, the corners of his lips turned into a subtle smile.
"M'hm. Sorry," she apologised yet again for her inappropriate and slightly unintentional affection.
"Don't be."
"You're comfortable."
He raised his eyebrows.
"Stop it."
"What?" he laughed.
"Being entertained."
"Not entertained," he lied. "Amused, maybe."
"Just as bad," she mumbled, letting her head relax against his shoulder again.
"Are you gonna be mad at me tomorrow?" he ventured.
"Probably. Why?"
"For taking advantage."
"Oh, is that what you're doing?"
"Not deliberately."
He had a point though, and she actually appreciated him for making it. She wasn't herself right now. And he was worried the fact that she wasn't well meant she was making decisions she otherwise wouldn't. He was probably right. If she wasn't sick, she wouldn't be sitting next to him on her couch right now, especially not this close. She wouldn't be hanging around in her pyjamas and she definitely wouldn't be napping on the couch next to him. Her guard was down, true enough. But that didn't mean she wasn't in control. She knew what she was doing. She even considered that she was using the fact that she was sick as a reason to let her guard down.
"I'm not that sick, Aaron. You're fine." She turned her head up again and met his gaze. She recognised that look. She used to see that look often. It had a tenderness in it she hadn't seen much of since she'd paid far too much attention to his name on that list.
"You won't use it against me?" he asked, humour in his voice.
"If you won't use it against me."
"In that case, make yourself comfortable."
She laughed lightly and leaned against him once again, closing her eyes. Almost instantly, she felt herself begin to drift.
She was unaware how much time had passed when she felt him shift, gently lifting his arm over her shoulders. She leaned into him, appreciating his warmth. His arm fell across her shoulders and down her side, his hand resting lightly on her hip.
"Good?" he asked softly when she looked up at him through weary eyes.
"Good."
She felt her body relax into his. The hand on her hip kept her distracted enough that sleep evaded her a few minutes, but it wasn't long before she drifted off.
Aaron was very aware he had not done what he came here to do. Well, initially he'd come to find out why she wasn't at work. Then the plan changed to try and help her get to work. Then it became trying to convince her not to go to work. Then somehow he had inserted himself into the picture. When he'd offered to stay and look after her, this was not what he'd had in mind. Not that he was complaining.
He'd hardly moved for half an hour now, afraid that even breathing too loudly could wake her. He was glad she was relaxed because he certainly wasn't, not with her head against the side of his chest or her hand resting on his leg as it was. And while, at the time, her hip had seemed the safest place to rest his hand, he'd been very aware of it in the time since.
She brought a hand up to rest against his chest and he felt his breath hitch. Why did she have this effect on him?
There was a time, last year, when having her in his arms like this wouldn't have seemed like such a longshot. While he hadn't initially been thrilled to work with her when their careers intertwined last year, it had taken her a shockingly short time to win him over. Before he'd even realised it, actually. Aaron was as professional as they came. And a career in politics had given him a lot of practice at keeping people at arm's length.
She'd slipped through his defences somehow very early on, and he gathered the feeling must have been mutual to some extent because, despite what she said, he was pretty sure she'd initiated the kiss that night in his office. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but far too often, he'd found himself trying not think about that kiss. Trying not to wonder what would have happened if they had gone on that date the following night.
It was for the best, really, he'd told himself several times. They were both in a place right now where they had to focus on their work. Both of them had fought hard to get where they were in their careers and who knows how a relationship might complicate things in their line of work. On top of that, he truly valued her friendship. Friendships worth valuing didn't come along often in Washington, so he was grateful for hers, and he didn't want to jeopardize that.
His thoughts were interrupted as he felt her shift again.
"You okay?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake her if she wasn't already.
He felt her nod against his chest. She moved again and he lifted his arm to the back of the couch as she pushed herself upright.
"How do you feel?"
"Sleepy," she groaned, running both hands down her face, then back through her hair.
"Do you want some lunch?"
"Yeah, I guess I should eat."
Aaron left her on the couch and spent the next few minutes in the kitchen, heating the soup he'd picked up earlier then dividing it between two bowls.
"Smells good."
He turned from the stove to see Emily in the doorway. "You rest. I can bring it to you."
She shook her head. "I'm bored of resting. I actually think the sleep helped."
"Yeah? Feeling better?"
"A little, I think."
He was glad to hear that. He handed her a bowl of soup and she retrieved two spoons from the top drawer, handing one to him. She leaned back against the counter, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other.
"It's good," she said, on her first taste.
"I can't take any credit for that," he shrugged. "So when was the last time you slept until midday?"
"I can't even remember. I can't remember the last time I slept past seven-thirty."
"I know what you mean. Four hours' sleep is a good night for me this past year."
"That's not sustainable, Aaron."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's your average?"
Emily rolled her eyes with the kind of smile that admits defeat. "At least five, probably."
"I think I've about accepted I'm gonna run myself into the ground doing this job. Burn out early. Retire by the beach in Mexico."
"That's a terrible plan."
"You can come with me if you like."
"I don't speak Spanish. Plus, I don't plan on burning out."
"No, you'll probably end up president yourself one day."
Her smile widened at that. "That's actually a very nice thing to say."
"I'd vote for you."
"Maybe you can be my chief of staff," she said, teasingly.
"Oh, I'll be in Mexico by then."
"Well," she said, putting her bowl beside her on the counter. "I'll have to take it upon myself to make sure you don't run yourself into the ground."
He found himself laughing at their exchange, but at the same time, he recognised something about both of their words that he knew went a lot deeper.
Moments later, her laughter had faded and a soft smile remained on her lips. "Don't burn out, Aaron," she said, voice completely serious now. "I need you around."
He couldn't do much to stop the smile that reached his lips, even as he tried his best to react as casually as he could to words he knew he shouldn't read into. He took a few steps in her direction and leaned against the counter next to her. "Well, as long as you're not going anywhere, I guess I'd better stick around."
She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "And if I go?"
"As your future chief of staff, I think it'd be strategic of me to go where you go."
"Strategic indeed. Hey, maybe we can speed things up - run against Kirkman in three years."
He pretended to consider that. "That's a lot of work for three years."
"We make a good team. I think we can do it."
"Are you sure you know how this election stuff works?"
"Oh no," she shook her head with a grin. "I got where I am by batting my eyelids."
"Yeah, well, who could say no to that face?"
She slapped his arm lightly in response.
The compliment had slipped out. Along with several other comments that could have been classified as somewhat flirtatious. That needed to stop. Although the last one was really a backhanded compliment he never would have said seriously. She had a pretty face, sure. Beautiful, he had to admit. But that was by no means a factor in the incredible amount she had accomplished in her career. Anyone who spent more than a minute with her could see that.
"Well," she started as he turned towards her, "I'm glad my illness hasn't affected our witty banter."
"Hey, that's the hallmark of our relationship. Although 'witty' is a stretch."
He almost winced at his poor choice of words. Relationship?
Really, Aaron?
Moments passed and he noticed, peripherally, that she was looking up at him. He tried to resist looking back at her, but when no words came to his mind to break the silence, he gave in to himself and met her gaze. And then he couldn't look away. Man, she was beautiful.
"I have to admit," she finally said, "I'm glad you stayed today."
"I'm glad you let me."
"Well," a small grin reached her lips. She reached up and tweaked his chin, playfully. "Who could say no to that face?"
Aaron breathed a laugh, eyes still locked on hers, and she found herself unable to break away from this moment they'd somehow gotten caught up in.
Since when had they been standing this close?
His eyes momentarily darted to her lips, she was pretty sure, and she felt her heartrate increase. Her mind went back to the last time they'd let this happen. To the last time he'd kissed her. Or did she kiss him?
She suddenly craved his closeness, and she felt herself lean further towards him, just slightly. He leaned in too, eyes searching hers. Searching for what, she didn't know. Permission, maybe? For a reason to resist? Or maybe a reason not to.
She forced herself not to reach for him. Forced herself not to draw him closer.
His lips broke into a small smile and he exhaled, breaking eye contact with her momentarily, looking down, then back up at her.
"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice rough. "I'm struggling here."
She released a small laugh, grateful for his honesty.
"I'm really trying not to-" he continued, before cutting himself off. "I just don't want this to-"
"I know," she offered.
"We need to be careful, Em," he said, shifting slightly away from her and leaning back further against the counter.
"Yeah." She got it. She really did. This wasn't good for them. At least, not right now. "It's probably my fault, really," she said, stepping backwards away from him.
"Yeah? How's that?"
"Well," she gestured towards herself, "I'm sure I'm pretty hard to resist in these pyjamas."
She could his hear his laughter behind her as she turned and headed into the living room, determined not to let this hang over the rest of the day. She sat on the couch once again, relieved to let her tired body sink back into the cushions. A few moments later he joined her. "Seriously though," she looked over at him, "thank you. I appreciate it."
The moment lingered only a second or two, before they launched back into their comfort zone - work talk. And they sat on her couch chatting and laughing and disagreeing and planning until he left later that night.
She was exhausted by the time she got to bed, and she was pretty sure she would regret not getting more rest when she got up for work tomorrow, if she got up for work tomorrow. But she wouldn't change today.
She wouldn't change a thing.