A/N: Finley comes to check on Cullen when he's late and finds that her and Sera's prank may have gone too far. Fluff.

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"Cullen?" Finley trotted into his office, glancing around. He'd said he would be up to bed half an hour ago, and yet he hadn't shown up. While she'd considered going to sleep without him, she found that the mere thought was unappealing, and doubted she'd do better trying to sleep alone. It was a little…she wasn't sure what it was to realize that she needed someone else to sleep. Pleasant, annoying, wanted, anxiety inducing?

Yet there it was.

She needed him.

She needed a man who, if they ever had to flee from templars, would likely not want to run. She could foresee problems with that, though she'd managed to push them into that convenient little corner of her mind that she denied existed. Those worries could sit there forever for all she cared.

Preferred, really.

Regardless of whether it was good or not, she needed him, and so she'd gone to find out what was making him so late—he very rarely showed up to anything late, and when he did, it was always with good reason.

Even as she wondered where he might be since his room was empty, Cullen's head popped up from behind his desk, his hair a little frazzled and a look of incredulous anger on his face as his hands slid on the edge of the desk.

He pressed down, and it wobbled.

Finley's eyes widened slightly as she watched his gaze sweep over his desk before it snapped up to her briefly.

"It was fine. For over a year, it was fine," Cullen murmured, ducking back down behind the desk. It wobbled slowly as he tested it, trying to figure out which leg was damaged.

Sera had been rather disappointed to hear that Cullen hadn't seemed affected by their little prank. One of the scouts had seen him notice his desk wobble, but he hadn't reacted to it, instead going about his business, though he made sure not to lean on or against his desk again.

Apparently he'd been more affected by their prank than they'd realized…or intended.

Finley walked slowly around the desk until she could see Cullen, on his knees, rocking the desk a little every few minutes, gaze sweeping from one leg to another.

"You've been…trying to fix this for a while?" Finley asked, not sure if she should laugh or be worried.

"Of course not," Cullen muttered. "I'm not inept. It just took longer to do my paperwork with this damned thing…" He hit the desk, and it wobbled again.

Finley dropped to her knees beside him, trying to remember which leg Sera had tucked that thing underneath. Finley thought back to the wobbly table from Haven and then moved to the outer side of the desk. "Here, you shake it, and I'll see if I can find anything on this side. It's got to be hard to see from under there."

"It's hard to see from any angle," Cullen muttered, though he reached out and caught her ankle, squeezing it gently before he let her go. "Thank you."

As soon as she'd laid out on the floor so that she could get the best view of the bottom of the legs, she realized that it really was next to impossible to see underneath them. It was no wonder he hadn't found which leg was the problem yet.

She made a point to inspect a few of them before finally calling for him to stop. "I think there's something under this one. If you can lift it, maybe I can get it out?"

Cullen was beside her in an instant, peering down at the leg with that same incredulous look from earlier. With no prodding, he was on his feet, gripped his desk, and hoisted it up about an inch. Finley grabbed the little bit of wood that had been used to cause him distress, and then sat up.

Despite being frustrated, he still set his desk down with great care. When it was in place, he tried rocking it a few times before he was finally content that it was indeed fixed. With a sigh, he leaned against the desk and ran his hands down his face. "Thank you."

Even as Finley tried to assure him it was nothing—aside from guilt building in her mind as she hadn't realized it would upset him so—he pulled her to him and kissed her. As his lips molded to hers, she somewhat forgot the dilemma, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him.

When they broke for breath, however, Cullen lightly ran a hand up her arm until he could claim the wood chip from her. Holding it up, he shook his head. "How could something even…" His gaze narrowed. "Sera."

"You don't know that," Finley insisted, a bit too quickly.

Suspicion sparked in his eyes, though he smoothed his expression quickly. "Oh?"

Finley shrugged as innocently as she could. "Well, we fixed it…that's what matters, right?"

Dropping the wood chip on his desk, he looped both arms around her, seeming to consider just what to say to that. After a moment, he leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'm going to get you back for this."