Pre-summary.

Let it be somewhere after Antonio and Sylvie broke up for the first time (but what a silly woman could let go such a worthy and gorgeous man TWICE?!), so no more trying for them (though their couple was the coolest, the most real and beautiful in the whole Chicago fandom).

Here goes another character. Moved from New-York years ago. In Chicago she tried herself working as 911 operator but then experienced an existential crisis, or whatever it is. A fairy godmother though came to help and organized her a new place of work - pretty qualified to make up for Mouse. More on that in Chapter 10.

I had several alternatives in my head. One - Antonio was deep undercover (or came back to the unit from judicial) and met her for the first time already as a part of the team... I played all kinds of scenarios, reliving, revising. reviving, even long after "...pronounce you husband and wife" (yep, it's totally destined and inevitable) and still can't have enough )))

So the following version is different. Here they met by chance before she made that decision to change her life once again (since New-York). A bonus for her courage - Antonio Dawson to admire and to look after her.

Written in separated not in order shorts by mood.

... ... … ENVY ... ... ...

Left to themselves, few meters apart, but gaze to gaze. So intense, may even challenging, if not for a light sweet smile they also mirrored. So comfortable. Yet something, a butterfly or whatever, not a bunch but a single one is enough, with its wide soft wings fluttering and tickling the insides made want to fidget in chair. And temperature, yes, seemed to run higher. Could be the steams of his coffee reaching her? She shifted her glance to a mug he held... firm but tender in his hand once having caused her a shock of delightful goosebumps at their accident touch, hm...

Then he placed a mug to his lips for a sip and she froze in fascination... In like forever, but those were just seconds, she blushed, almost moaned, smirked and covered her eyes as if embarrassed but rather dazed at herself.

"What's wrong?" he wondered with amusement beholding that change of her cool. She took time contemplating, staring back at him now with a grin. "Not prying, but blatant truth is of value," he recalled her own saying.

Ah, he played it so well, always, confident and charming. And she loved to match. "I just... caught myself in thoughts... of how I am damn envious of your mug." Pfff, not so bold and straight, but the most explicit declaration she did so far. A moment later though somewhat chickened out and fetched herself up in her mind, "Come on! Enough of boosting his self-esteem."

Bluffing! Blatant truth or dumbness - that's her credo. So stick to it, please, not trying to lie to herself too.

With others she used not to think long over her words often sounding harsh, but his presence made her more accurate or simply soften, yet not less genuine. So no doubt she did like being open around him, he freed it out of her even more natural, whether in public or vis-a-vis. And sincerely praising him with no shade of exaggeration or confessing (precisely not to be accused of sexual harassment) how he made her feel was a special treat. For both of them. Since they met, they've been passing this ball to each other any day numerously and heartily. Not a pick-up thing at all, but merely couldn't hold back the sentiments. Do people name it flirting or what?

Thus that lovely surprise in his eyes now and empowered smirk of his gratified her gut, body and soul. Again. Every single time. The effect two-way witnessed and undeniable had her as if to expand, while the world around them narrowed, stopped, dissolved...

A sudden phone call returned her to reality. 'I'm all attention!' she answered too eagerly, yet casually kept watching him. May he have time to ponder over her plain-vanilla cue to see how intelligent and check how deep to the bones a gentleman he is.

Break the distance, make a move closer? He's so welcomed it dumbfounds and scares to suffocating and weakness in her knees. But on no account she'd be that stupid to retreat from the bliss of their whatever interaction. May he be the only lure she'd yield to. Somehow she knows it's worthy. Somehow she knows his arms are to catch her in this fall... catch her and cherish... like a damn mug of coffee that ignited her imagination...

But fuck the mug! It's just him whole, inside and out.