Hearing

She heard him long before she ever set eyes on him.

Her first day (week actually) at 26 Fed was spent attending newcomers briefings, learning the layout of the floor she'd be working on, and making sure all her paperwork was in order. She had been shown a desk, but had barely done more than put a few things in the top drawer, and place the nameplate that she had been given at orientation on the keyboard before she was whisked away yet again.

But no matter where she was in the semi-open office, one voice carried loud and clear over the rest. It was dominant and commanding as orders were given out left and right.

"That's the Assistant Special Agent In Charge, he runs the floor in the JOC." Her guide helpfully commented when he noticed Kristen looking around to see if she could locate the source of the voice. "You'll be working under him when we get through with all this in-processing. After a while, you won't even notice the volume." He looked around surreptitiously before lowering his voice and leaning in, "Especially once you see him." The agent tossed a wink in her direction as he led her into another briefing.

Kristen scoffed to herself, she was here to work, not ogle her teammates. She would never be that unprofessional.

Sight

She spotted him before they were introduced.

Once her in-processing was mostly completed, she was led back into the room that seemed to constantly be teeming with chaos. She spotted a few other newbies and they all exchanged the same "what the hell have we gotten ourselves into" looks amongst themselves.

Amid all the chaos a lone figure stood at the front of the room, speaking with another analyst and gesturing broadly with a pencil in his hand. Even though she couldn't hear what he was saying, it was clear he was giving instructions by the way the seated analyst nodded. He abruptly straightened up and patted them on the back before turning to address the room at large, his voice suddenly booming out across the floor.

'Oh.' Kristen suddenly remembered the words her guide had spoken a few days ago. He was older than she'd imagined, older than she was by a pretty good margin. The grey peppered in at his temples and throughout his goatee put him in his late 30's to early 40's most likely. He was dressed in a simple button down and slacks, both clearly tailored to fit his broad chest and solid frame.

'Well shit.' Kristen thought to herself. Where did this guy who seemed to hit all her buttons come from? She shook it off, he was probably an asshole. No one that good looking could be nice, right?

As if she conjured his attention simply by thinking about him, his gaze chose that moment to focus on her. His eyebrows drew in fractionally as his eyes narrowed, probably wondering who the hell she was. He never stopped talking, and eventually his gaze moved on to address the other agents assembled.

Kristen breathed a sigh of relief, but her reprieve was short-lived. As soon as he finished speaking, his eyes locked on her form once more. He cut a direct path to approach where she had designated as her area.

"You must be one of the new analysts." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a warm smile. "I'm your ASAC Jubal Valentine, and yes, I am aware that I can be heard across the building."

"What….I didn't…." Kristen stumbled over her reply, only to stop short when he let out a chuckle that seemed to rumble from his chest. "I'm just playing." He said with a grin displaying a charming set of dimples. He held out his hand, "Welcome, Agent…?"

"Kristen." She gave her first name by habit before correcting herself, "I mean Chazal. I'm Agent Kristen Chazal." She stepped forward and placed her hand in his.

'Well shit.'

Touch

She would like to blame the jolt that she got when her hand touched his on static from the carpet, but she didn't think that would be accurate. She definitely couldn't blame the sudden feeling of right on it either. It felt like she was meant to be in that moment, in that place, with him right then. Judging from the surprised look on his face, he felt something too.

That feeling of 'just right' never went away. The more time she spent in the job, the more it felt like it was where she was supposed to be. She loved what she did, and who she worked for, and the feeling of accomplishing something important. Years had passed, and she was still reacting to his touches like it was the first day, although she's sure she's learned to hide her reaction.

Or rather, she hoped.

Because his touch still electrified her skin. She still found herself hovering around him, even when she had no real reason. She still held her breath when he pulled up a chair to sit beside her while she went over whatever data she had conjured out of thin air. She lived for his pats on her shoulder, the subtle nudges, the tap on her forearm, his hand on the small of her back when she preceded him out of a room, and in rare occasions, the hugs that made her want to sink into him and never let go.

Smell

There was no way any man on Gods green earth should smell as good as Jubal does. It just shouldn't happen. Kristen swears that when they're working extra long hours, he must go and reapply his cologne. The alternative is that he just naturally smells that good, and no way is that fair.

He likes to switch up his scents every now and then. She remembers the first time he'd done it, she had called him over to take a peek at something and stopped in her tracks. Later on, she would blame the fact that she'd been up for over 24 hours for her bluntness.

"What is that?"

He looked confused, "Weren't you about to tell me?"

"No, I mean, what are you wearing? That's not your usual scent." Her nose scrunched up.

Jubal's eyebrows shot up. "Not my usual…." he seemed to mentally regroup and cleared his throat, "No, it's not. I got it from my kids for father's day." He lifted a shoulder, "This was in my go bag when I changed. I'm guessing it doesn't meet with your approval?"

Kristen felt like an ass. It was a gift from his kids! "No, it's fine." She tried to play it off, but Jubal waved her off, "No, no. Can't have my favorite analyst recoil from me. I'll make sure to check my bag next time."

She buried her face in her hands, ignoring the part about being his favorite. "No, I'm serious! It's not horrible, it's fine. I swear."

"You just like the other one better?"

"Yes." She answered honestly, "But, please, wear whatever you like. Ignore me, I'm way past being tactful right now. Matter of fact, we don't have to talk about it at all." She quickly redirected his attention to her was beyond mortified, and vowed to never bring it up again.

After a weekend of rest, she strolled into work bright and early on Monday, wanting to put last week's disaster behind her. Thankfully they caught a case early in the day, so she focused all her attention on the job at hand.

Until she felt him come up behind her.

Kristen turned in her chair, ready to apologize for her rudeness when he leaned across her to grab the pencil that she had admittedly stolen from him. "Jubal, I-"she cut herself off as she registered the now familiar scent. Her nose flared on it's own accord, and she couldn't stop the deep breath she took even if she wanted to.

He scribbled something down on a post-it, angling so she could see it too. Better?

This was one of those times Kristen thanked God that she was dark skinned. Her face felt like it was on fire, but thankfully, at least it wouldn't be broadcast to the entire JOC.

She snatched the post-it from him and tossed it into the trash. She chanced a look in his direction, he was eyeing her with a satisfied expression. She rolled her eyes and bit her lower lip, looking away to keep her own smile hidden.

At his nudge, she turned her eyes back to see him writing something else down on another post-it. As soon as he finished he stood up and walked away. Kristen instinctively stuck the scrap of paper in her pocket and excused herself to the restroom. Mercifully it was empty so she didn't have to go in a stall. The post-it had just one line:

You're wearing my favorite too.

Taste

Jubal tasted like Fall.

Earthy and mature with a hint of smokiness sometimes (he had a passion for cigars). Fall also just so happened to be her favorite season, so when she and Jubal finally started seeing each other, she wasted no time in letting her tongue taste as much of his skin as possible.

Of course any marks she left were well below his neck. They'd learned that lesson the hard way when Jubal had been forced into wearing a turtleneck for the first time in what he swore was a decade at least.

In the beginning, Jubal used to say self deprecatingly that it was a good thing that they met after he got sober. That he didn't think she'd be too eager to nibble on his skin when all she'd be able to taste was the alcohol seeping through his pores. He'd tapered off on those types of comments over time, much to Kristen's relief.

Even though she privately agreed.

Watching him move around his kitchen now, in the middle of making their dinner, Kristen was struck with the urge to taste. So when he called her over to test the sauce that he'd been stirring, she eagerly hopped down from the counter and was by his side in an instant.

She bypassed the wooden spoon he held out for her in favor of taking his hand in hers and bringing it up to her mouth. Drawing his index finger into her mouth, she hummed softly as his taste exploded across her tongue. There were hints of the sauce lingering, but beneath that it was all him.

"How is it?" His voice was low and teasing.

"Perfect."