Minutes stretch. Neither of us speaks. Just existing in the quiet that hums with everything we're not saying. Everything we did last night that changed the parameters between us.
"You think it'll stick?" Her voice is pitched low enough the marshals can't hear.
"Yeah."
She shifts closer. Her arm brushes mine. Deliberate contact that sends heat straight through me. "You sound certain."
"I am." I keep my voice flat even though my pulse is hammering. "Graves built his network using federal authority. Same authority destroys him once it turns."
"Tactical reality."
"Only kind that matters."
She's quiet. Then her hand finds mine. Not the sweet reassurance from this morning. This is fingers threading through mine, thumb stroking across my palm in a rhythm that'sanything but innocent. Pressure, release, pressure. A promise of what comes later.
My control fractures. Just slightly. Enough I have to work to keep my breathing even.
"Last night." Her voice drops lower now, intimate, for me only. "That was real."
"Yeah."
"Not asking what happens after." Her thumb keeps stroking. Each pass deliberate. "Just acknowledging it mattered."
I turn toward her. See want in her expression matching what's clawing through me. See the doctor who knows exactly what she's doing and isn't backing down.
See the woman who took everything I gave her and came back for more.
"Mattered to me too."
Her fingers tighten. Heat flares in her eyes. For half a second, I consider finding an empty office and finishing what that touch is starting. Consequences be damned.
Then the testimony room door opens.
Helena pulls her hand back slowly. Deliberately. Making sure I feel the loss. Fuck, she knows exactly what she's doing.
Rebecca emerges first. "She's doing well. Taking breaks when needed. Prosecutors are respectful. Halfway through."
"Problems?" Helena asks.
"Normal difficulty reliving trauma. But Traci's tougher than most survivors I work with." Rebecca pauses. "Prosecutors are impressed. Her observations are detailed, consistent. She's not embellishing. That makes her credible."
The door closes. More waiting.
Helena's beside me again. Not touching now but near enough I feel the pull. The air between us charged with unfinished business.
Time stretches. Federal building sounds filter through. Footsteps, muted conversations, HVAC hum. Normal office environment surrounding testimony that'll end a career and expose a network.
Helena shifts. Her shoulder brushes mine. Small contact that shouldn't register the way it does. Muscle memory from last night lighting up every nerve.
"Stop," I say. Low enough only she hears.
"Stop what?" Innocent tone that's anything but.
"You know what."
Her mouth curves. Slight smile that promises trouble. "We're just standing here."
"Yeah." I turn my head, meet her eyes. See heat there. Challenge. "Keep telling yourself that."
