"Oh, Mr. Yagami, welcome."

"Hi, yes, thank you — glad I logged on in time, or just in at least."

"Your timing is excellent. We'll get started in a few minutes."

"Sure, of course. Great to see everyone. Really happy this is all coming together."

"Well, I should say everyone here is thrilled to be starting these conversations, at long last."

"On our end, too. And I appreciate your assistance in arranging this call. I know schedules like ours aren't easy to align."

"It's my pleasure. All right, it looks like our senior staff are all logged on. We'll do introductions as soon as our director joins."

"Fantastic."

"Absolutely, and do let me know if — oh, yes, good morning, Ms. Tachikawa."

"Good — ,"

His eyes meet hers on the screen, the same second it goes blank. He hears the laptop slam shut in the bedroom. Everyone freezes, or maybe time does, for him at least.

"Okay," says her head of operations, hosting the virtual meeting room, clearing his throat. "Let's give Ms. Tachikawa a moment? I will check her connection and we can rejoin the link in five — ,"

"Sounds great," he shouts back in a strangled voice. Immediately signs off, flipping the camera cover on. He doesn't know where to look, how to move, what to think. Only finds enough of his voice to proffer down the hallway, reeling, "Uh, so you're — ?"

"Yeah!"

"And I'm your — ?"

"Uh-huh!"

Presses his face onto the dining room table, forehead to the veneer paneling. "Right. Okay. Okay." Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I don't, uh, I don't know what to — ?"

"Let me think!"

"Okay."

The silence continues, swallowing them both.

Her voice is almost crazed when she breaks it, "Is the snow still — ?"

"Yeah."

Pulls himself upright again by sheer shame alone, but doesn't need to look to confirm. The weather had only worsened since they'd woken up, late, caught in a winter gale he shouldn't have ignored alerts for. She'd made it easy, though, to ignore everything sensible. Names, details, contexts. Just soft skin, curved hips, silver tongue. She'd kept her stiletto boots on, too, introducing him to a kink he didn't know he had until she'd pinned him to the floor of her foyer. The visible-from-the-dining-room foyer that he'd had to spin his laptop away from as the video connected, make sure their still scattered clothes weren't caught in the wide angle view — just seconds after snatching her French lace Mylas from the ceiling light fixture above him, spotting it in the upper corner of his screen as he was about to open the meeting link. Thought to himself how lucky he was to pull this off, swearing never to go straight from an overly delayed train to a night cap bar on a weeknight ever again.

"Are you still there?" She's talking at him through the closed door, voice carrying far despite the panicked tones. Hadn't minded how she'd carried it last night, pleasure wrung, but the sobering doom of daylight won this round. Turns his face in the direction of her bedroom now, the one place they hadn't ended up last night. Go figure.

"Look, I'm, I'm really — I really didn't know you were — ,"

"Do you not look up your meeting schedule?" She sounds shrill, unhinged. He imagines he does, too.

"My assistant sets it."

"And you just show up?"

"I'm really good — at my job." Presses her further, refusing to take all the wallowing embarrassment. "And you, shouldn't you have looked my company up when you took the meeting?"

"I researched the top brass! Not my fault that's not you." Her tone is indignant, like she can tell he's trying to shift the blame. Well, she had good instincts then. That's a fortunate sign for a investment-worthy client. Potential client. Former client. Failed client. Fuck. No way is he getting that promotion now.

He lowers his hands to his lap, shoulders sunk. Defeated. "We need to rejoin the call."

"No."

"Waiting's just going to make it worse."

"I'm saying I have connectivity issues."

"And I — ?"

"Have poor judgement."

"You were the only good choice." The best one he could have made, in every moment. Had never seen eyes like hers before, rivaling stars. He wasn't stupid, even if he let himself act like it, around eyes like that. She falls quiet now, and he starts muttering aloud, mostly to himself, "Look, the longer we hold out — ,"

"Let me think."

"Okay." He shifts in the chair, stares out the window at the falling snow.

The door creaks open, and she's lingering in the hallway. Looks devastated. And devastating, too, his distracting thoughts settling on glossed pink lips, curled shoulder cut, white blouse with a floral scarf tie. Pajama shorts below that, because why bother anymore, in virtual meeting rooms. He feels hungover again, looking at her. She returns the feeling exactly.

"Oh, you're real." She whines this, holding her head with both hands. "All of this is real."

Not like he's celebrating it either. Gestures a weak ta-da anyway.

"This is my lowest moment."

Flinches, because same."We don't — I meant, we might be able to pull this off, right?"

She's shaking her head. "I've held too many work parties here."

Finds the implication weird enough to fixate on, a bad habit when he's stressed. "Why would you let your employees into your home?"

Blinks at him, like it's the most obvious answer. "It's a family company. They're my family." Then just about wails into her palms, "I've sullied my family's company — ,"

"Okay, 'sullied' seems extreme — ,"

" — and for what? For that?" Flaps a helpless arm in his direction.

Now has a completely different reason for being heated. "You were fine enough with 'that' to wake me up twenty minutes ago with your mouth on my — ," and stops when her phone rings, from the bedroom. She gapes down the hallway at it, but doesn't move. His voice drops, pained, "You have to answer."

Her whole body is trembling. "No."

"You have to. They might think something's happened to you."

"Something has happened to me." Whimpers, kneading her cheeks with her fingers, "I'm trapped in a blizzard with a one night stand, and everyone at work is going to know."

"Yeah but…" searches, clawing, for the silver lining, "what's one night between family?"

Something like a laugh bubbles from her throat, until she pivots accusingly towards him. "Don't make jokes."

Holds both hands up. "Like this is gonna get any more awkward?"

"Better not." Looks like it's physically hurting her to concede to him.

"So one idea: let's just lean into it." Like he's talking himself through it, too. "I was on for a whole minute before you and no one said anything. Maybe they won't notice."

Surveys her living room, noting that much of the evidence is out of camera sight. And a scene it was, had been, seared deep. Shivering at the memory of the way he'd mapped her, made her known to herself. Worship in the key of just this one time. Except here they were, well played. Shifts where she stands, flustered, distracted, "I did have some redecorating done since the last party."

"And I can use a backdrop. One of those blurry filter things."

"Or you could take the call outside — in the hallway," when his eyebrows shoot up.

"A sensitive, high stakes meeting like this? In the hallway?"

Scoffs again, "Oh, it's not high stakes."

"Yes, it is." Is sort of surprised she can't tell. "Do you have any idea how coveted your portfolio is?"

"Of course, I do!" Then, head tilting, "Really?"

He almost laughs. "Our 'top brass' has been after this meeting for two years."

She appears uncertain how to take this pleasant news, vaguely aware she may have already known this, but had senior staff who did their jobs well enough to not have to pay hard attention, mutual trust being her preferred management style. They really were her family. She really had to do right by them. Inhales slowly after a thoughtful pause, straightening against the wall as she leans back, arms tucked at her sides, hands clasped behind her. Keeps her voice dry, even if she's calmed down a bit. "And yet they sent you."

"I told you. I'm good." He does laugh then.

Smiles at him. "Hm."

Shakes his head, leaning forward over the table to rub his face, fingers combing back his hair. "Okay. How about I…we finish the meeting, right, set the first steps up, play it professional. And when I'm back, I'll let my team know it's a conflict of interest and they'll reassign the deal to someone else."

Her head tilts back. "Someone good?"

"Better." He knows enough to wink back, watching her.

And she realizes he's waiting on her lead, letting her set the rules, and she feels herself open again. It wasn't like her to pick someone up, unplanned and unknown. She wasn't stupid, even if she let herself act like it, around eyes like that. Spontaneity ran through her, but she's still careful about what counts. And he'd counted. Everything on her list. Honest smile, sure hands, smooth tongue. He'd made her laugh, which was easy enough to do. It was the way he hadn't grounded her, hadn't tethered her, that wasn't. Let her hold herself, understood she could. Kept her pace, even matched, clear visioned. Didn't press for more, didn't make her less. Just made her feel whole, as she already was, all on her own. Like it was enough, only, to be whole beside her, too.

Her phone rings again, and then his does. They're out of time, or close to it.

And still, he waits, looking at her like he had last night, the last sundown of her old life.

"So what do you say?"

Crosses the room before he finishes the thought, tugs him up by the knot in his tie. Sealed with a kiss. "Make me a deal then."