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[as_damaged]

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[ooc: you know the drill, if you need her and there's no recent post &c &c. whatever. ♥♥♥]

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if you moved a million miles away / I'd still visit you every day

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

Is it an illusion? Not to Chase. She's never given him much of a clue that there's anything more, even the potential for it between them. If anything, he'd hazard a guess that he made the prime pick for this experiment of hers because she knows him well enough to know she won't fall. Doesn't matter - she still picked him. And the mercenary part? That's just a turn-on.

Not unlike those long, long legs, one ankle catching him up like bait on a hook. She's shorter than him by only a couple of inches, but looking down it's like she could go on for miles.

"I'm going to need that signed for in triplicate," he comments, glancing around for an opportune space. Good as it looks in the movies to sweep everything to the floor, in real life it's not much more than a mess and a waste of money. Particularly when there's another counter free, just across the way. Twirling her - the obvious next step in the dance - he pulls her back with him against the cabinets.

if you moved a million miles away / I'd still visit you every day

[as_damaged]

It helps that she's relatively certain of success. And that, though she wouldn't want to admit it, she trusts him. And when he moves, she moves with him-- practiced and accustomed to the swing of his step, the reach of his arms around her.

"You'll have to wait on a notary," she nearly purrs in response. Wide-eyed through the dark screen of lashes, she smirks up at him. She doesn't mind letting him lead, in the piece; as long as it's her careful choreography of expectation. She leans up and forward, lips brushing his ear gently.

"Worry about it in the morning?"