For the prompt: "I'm afraid this conversation is going to end in goodbye."

His first mistake was getting drunk.

It had been an exceptionally long, exceptionally grueling day of hiring and firing, of performing crisis gymnastics for a congressman who seemed to have no inkling of how to run his own office, and Mike would bet his second house that the man would get flipped out of his own seat come re-election time.

So Mike stopped to get a few drinks on his way home. He didn't get wasted, but he did get a little more drunk than maybe he should have.

His second mistake was putting in Nadine's address when he called his Uber.

Later, when he was feeling hungover and sorry for himself and sober enough, he'd really kick himself for it. After Perrin and Simone and Article 5 and their fight in her office, they (he) called it all off and Mike hadn't spoken to Nadine since. That meant things were left hanging in a kind of uncertain place, and he didn't like that. And he missed her and he hated that he missed her, hated that she had this power over him still. But there was nothing to be done about that now—if he'd wanted his balls back, he needed to have asked weeks ago.

The uber spat him out in front of her complex and he smoothed down his suit and straightened his posture. He wasn't wasted, but he wanted to look more sober than he felt.

Mike tailgated his way into the building and then found his way to her unit mostly by muscle memory. He knocked (maybe pounded) on her door until the deadlock was being unbolted and Nadine was yanking the door open, already looking annoyed.

Not good news for him.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed. Her hair was mussed and there was a little color in her cheeks, and damn he'd forgotten just how attractive she was, how attractive he found her. Especially when he made her mad. "Mike, what are you doing here?"

"I think we need to talk," he said. He sighed deeply. "We never... we never really got a chance to talk, did we?"

"It's midnight!"

"Is it?" He glanced at his watch. It was.

"Did you call to tell me you were coming by?"

"No. But it was on my way home," he lied.

She raised an eyebrow. She lived on the other side of the city from him, and there were very few things that were on the way from her home to his. Certainly none he could think of right now, so he hoped she wouldn't ask for further clarification.

"Was it," she said flatly.

"Yup."

"Well, you'll have to forgive me, but I'm quite tired, so we'll have to do this another time—" She made to close the door, but Mike threw up his hand to hold it open.

"C'mon, Nadine, just..."

She looked at him then, really looked at him. "Are you drunk?"

"No, that's not—I had a drink after work, but I'm not—"

Suddenly, she looked furious. "I can't believe you."

"Nadine..."

"This is low even for you, don't you think?"

"I just wanna have a discussion with you—"

"Another time, I said."

Mike protested, "But—"

"Nadine?" Another voice floated out from inside her apartment, a man's voice, and it stopped Mike short. "Who's at the door?"

Behind her, he appeared. Tall, strong build, wide frame. Shirt rumpled and half-undone. Mike's eyes darted from him to Nadine and back again.

Suddenly, her messed up hair, her flushed cheeks—it all made sense.

"Oh," Mike said stupidly.

"Mike B came by to give me a work update, but he was just leaving," she said evenly. She turned to look over her shoulder. "I'll be right there." And her voice sounded so sweet it made Mike want to vomit.

The man nodded and walked back out of view.

Mike furrowed his brow. "Do I know him?" The man's face had seemed familiar, and it niggled at Mike's brain. He'd met this guy somewhere before... right?

Nadine turned to face him again, and her gaze was cool. "I'm afraid this conversation is going to end in goodbye, Mike," she said.

"I know that guy, right?"

"You shouldn't have shown up out of the blue."

And then it clicked. "Wait," he said suddenly.

Nadine pressed her lips together.

"That guy... that guy is on Elizabeth's security detail. Isn't he?"

She didn't say anything. Her silence gave it away.

"Oh my god," he said. His eyes widened. "You're dating one of her agents."

"What I do and who I date is no longer any of your concern." She tried again to close the door, but Mike still held it open.

"Is... is that even allowed?"

"Mike, if you don't get your hand off my door right now, I'll call him back over here and have him ask you to do it. And he won't ask as nicely."

Mike pulled back as if he'd been burned.

"If you have something to say to me," she said curtly, "you can call my office and set up an appointment."

The door closed in his face.