Spirit should have gone home hours ago. It's not even as if he has any work to get done, or at least none that he's working on. He can't actually work on anything, hasn't been able to since Stein left on an assignment with Sid and Medusa, and while he's pretty sure Justin at least noticed his lack of productivity the blond didn't say anything, either about his nervous energy or the fact that he lingers far later than he usually does.

It's perfectly fine that Stein went out an on assignment without him, Spirit tells himself. He'll be fine, he did this plenty before Spirit had ever so much as thought of a career in this department and obviously he survived all of that. But after Justin and Giriko leave for the day and Spirit is left alone he gives up on even an attempt at focus, lets himself lean forward to rest his forehead on his crossed arms and tries to pretend he's not jittery with anxiety.

He's still there when the front door to the building opens over an hour later, still so tight-wound with energy that even the late hour doesn't tempt him with sleep. Any attempt at feigned casualness is lost in the first wave of relief; Spirit's on his feet and at the door by the time the other three have made it into the building. Medusa is saying something, waving a hand and laughing with the particular combination of sultry and sharp she has perfected, and Sid is listening for once, smiling faintly like the late hour has stripped him of some of his professional distance. And there's Stein, trailing in their wake as he clears off the hologram he had on over his clothes as he steps through the doorway, and Spirit is moving forward before he thinks it through.

"Fuck," he blurts, reaching out instinctively to touch at the Enforcer's blood-soaked shoulder. Stein visibly jumps at the sound of his voice, startles back from his touch, but Spirit's too committed to the motion and follows through anyway until his hand lands on the damp cloth. "Are you okay?"

Stein is still leaning away, all his weight on his back foot like he's in the middle of stumbling back and out of Spirit's reach. His hair and face are nearly as bad as his clothes, as if he's been caught in an unexpected downpour of blood instead of rain. Medusa laughs, says, "That's not his," but Spirit doesn't look back at her, and there's a murmur of voices from Sid and the other Enforcer before they move away down the hall towards the office and leave Stein and Spirit alone in the entry.

After a moment Stein blinks, and swallows, and completes his stalled step backward and away from Spirit's touch. "It's not mine, mostly."

"Mostly?" Spirit is aware that he sounds frantic, strained and panicked and overemotional, but he can't control his voice any more than he can keep himself from following when the Enforcer turns and walks away. "Mostly?"

"It can be a dangerous job," Stein says without turning around. His back is significantly cleaner; Spirit's rationality has caught up, processed that the suspect must have hit Eliminator levels and Stein must have been within arm's reach when the Dominator went off, but that qualifier is lingering and turning over and over in his thoughts until he wants to strip Stein down to bare skin just to make sure he's okay.

"Why were you so close?" Spirit demands, speeding his pace so he's hovering just at Stein's heels. "You shouldn't have had to get any closer than line of sight, you must have been right on top of the target."

"He was quick," Stein says as if that's enough explanation. "It takes a few seconds for the Dominators to complete their scan and it was easiest for me to close with him and hold him steady until Inspector Barret could get the shot off."

Spirit opens his mouth to voice some attempt at a protest, but all that comes out is an incoherent whimper. He's still trying to piece together a better approximation of rationality when Stein slows so the Inspector draws level with him just as he comes to a stop.

"I was going to take a shower," Stein observes, looking at Spirit out of the corner of his eye so he's not quite turning his head towards the other man. "Did you want to keep fretting back in the office or come in and wait so you can convince yourself I'm okay?"

The invitation makes it into Spirit's brain right away, rapidly followed by the 'shower' portion of the sentence, and by the time he's saying, "Oh" in an odd strangled undertone Stein is pulling open the door to his room, holding it open in an offer until the Inspector catches the weight and follows him in.

"You can keep talking," Stein says without turning around. He's grabbing the bottom edge of his shirt and Spirit is trying very hard not to watch the clothing as it comes up to expose white-pale skin but he's not really succeeding in doing anything but flushing with self-consciousness. "I'll just be around the corner, unless you'd rather I stayed in these."

"No," Spirit manages. He can barely get the sound out, sounds so dreadful that Stein turns back to look at him. The Enforcer is balling up the filthy shirt as he moves, and it turns out his skin is a lot cleaner than the clothes he was wearing, there's only trickle of liquid along his collarbone and a stripe across his ribs that might be his own rather than the suspect's. Then Spirit manages to look away and down at the floor so he only hears the amusement in the Enforcer's voice rather than seeing the grin at his self-conscious embarrassment.

"Take a seat, I'll be right out." Stein moves around the corner; as soon as he's out of eyeshot Spirit takes a breath and lifts his head to actually look around the room. There's not much, a bed in the corner and a desk with precarious stacks of books clustered around the legs, a mismatched set of chairs and a heavy dresser shoved up against the wall. It's a small space but the furniture makes it look empty and oddly barren; there's no color, everything is in shades of grey and black. That might be a hologram but Spirit doubts it; the room has the look of carelessness rather than a deliberate styling choice.

The sound of running water starts. Spirit drops into one of the chairs - it's softer than it looks - and tries very very hard not to think too much about the splash of water from around the corner.

"Do you often get hurt?" he asks, loud to be heard over the shower.

"Not badly." Stein sounds perfectly calm, even half-shouting back. "Last time with you was the worst in a while."

"Thanks," Spirit calls, rolling his eyes even though there's no one to see. "The guilt trip is much appreciated."

He thinks there might be a laugh but it's hard to tell. "I'm just answering your question, not trying to provoke an emotional response." The water shuts off and when the Enforcer goes on speaking it's accordingly softer. "And you have nothing to do with this one."

"Thanks, that's very comforting," Spirit deadpans. "As long as you're getting injured while I'm not there everything is fine."

There is a beat. "You were really worried."

"You noticed." Spirit has to laugh; he can't help the self-deprecating amusement. "What tipped you off?"

"Your presence in the office at ten at night was a good start," Stein says. There's motion at the corner of Spirit's eye; when he looks up the other man is coming back out, wearing clean jeans and a bandage across his side and nothing else, not even his glasses. His eyes are very green in the monochrome surroundings, the only color in the room to Spirit's perspective, and with his shirt off there is a visible tracery of pale scars over his arms, wrists, chest, like he's been collecting them.

Spirit is on his feet and moving, reaching out to touch the clean white of the bandage before Stein has a chance to retreat. The Enforcer stiffens but doesn't flinch, this time; when Spirit looks up the other is watching his face with no expression at all.

Spirit swallows. "This happens a lot," he observes rather than asking, lifting his free hand to hover over the echoed lines on the other's skin without quite touching.

"Yes." Stein isn't blinking, isn't moving.

Spirit lets his fingers drift closer, ghost along a line that curves over the other man's shoulder and veers sharp over his collarbone. "Do you mind?"

Stein takes a breath, a little harder than he needs to, leans in very slightly so Spirit's fingers press in against his skin properly, and when he says "No" Spirit is pretty sure he's answering a different question than the Inspector meant to be asking. Spirit drags his fingers down an inch, lets his whole hand press flat against the web of scars so he can feel the slow pace of the Enforcer's breathing, and when he tips his head and leans in the other man meets him halfway, has his fingers curling in against Spirit's jacket even before their lips meet. It's careful, this time, slow like the first time but more deliberate, steady like Spirit's fingers on Stein's skin; Stein's lips are warm and damp from the shower and his hair is dripping onto Spirit's shoulder and the Inspector doesn't care at all. He can feel the Enforcer shaking, his breathing trembling like there's electricity humming just under his skin, and when Spirit slides the hand at Stein's hip around to his back the tension in the other man's spine melts under his touch. Stein's hand come in against the back of Spirit's neck, so tentative Spirit almost doesn't feel it until the redhead sighs and opens his mouth, and everything settles into place for a minute. Spirit's not sure who's doing what, if he's the one pulling Stein in closer or if the Enforcer's hold on his jacket is the driving force, if it's his own skin that's radiating heat or the lingering warmth of the water on Stein's. It doesn't matter anyway - for a moment there's no tension, no stress, no almost-avoidance or desperation born of the threat of loss, just Stein's lips on his and fingers against skin and clothes and the warm press of their bodies together.

When they separate it's at the same time and not far; Stein's hands stay where they are, and Spirit makes no effort to move away, so they're just standing together in the middle of Stein's room, breathing too-fast in sync with each other.

"What are we going to do?" Spirit asks.

Stein smiles. It touches his eyes in spite of the sadness lingering at the corners of the expression. "I have no idea."

Spirit laughs weakly. "Okay." He should be more worried, he feels distantly, should probably pause to work this out more thoroughly before he goes on. But Spirit's not ever been very good at careful planning - recklessness is more his style, honestly, and Stein is right there. So he leans back in to kiss him again, and he can feel Stein's smile melt into responsiveness before he stops thinking about it at all.