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The New Year had been such a whirlwind of change. Added duties and responsibilities meant Barnaby was burning the midnight oil and the candle at both ends. Not only where his ROCKET commitments were concerned, but his journalistic pursuits as well.[break][break]

He figured he deserved a little R&R to compensate! And a hot soak sounded like just what he needed to unwind a bit. A perk of his new position, now he was able to access the private bath reserved for ROCKET leadership. They were a much smaller number than the droves of subordinate ROCKETs, plus it was rather late at night, so BARNABY FINCH thought he'd have the place to himself.[break][break]

In a pleasant turn of events, he was wrong. Upon entering the spa he saw none other than Elisabeth Fiorelli lounging in the water, head back, eyes closed. The perfect target.[break][break]

He slunk forward, spanning the tiled area from the door to the railed stairway into the bath, Barnaby's natural stealth keeping him from alerting his presence to Elisa. He dipped a toe in, then his whole foot, then his upper thigh... but as soon as his donk of an ass hit the water it was game over.[break][break]

"Caught me~" He cooed, hands up in mock-surrender. Within moments Barnaby had slid over to sit beside her in the water, closer than what most would consider a friendly distance.[break][break]

"You're here awfully late, mon fleur. What's keeping you up?"

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"You don't seem very sorry to be caught at all," Elisabeth said, eyebrow lifted as her mouth pulled into a faintly amused smile.[break][break]

It was funny, somehow, that his mannerisms no longer held that same antagonism for her that they used to. Summer's end had seen to that.[break][break]

As Elisabeth gave him and his apparel a proper look, she added with a laugh, "I think part of you thrives on the attention," punctuating the observation with a playful splash.[break][break]

It was a kinder retaliation than the last one they'd shared with one another, with 1940s Krug carelessly tossed at cobalt eyes and dark hair.[break][break]

"I'm always up late, Bee." She hummed for a moment, steam gathering about them both as she sank her shoulders deeper into the water. "Though as it happens, I had a meeting."[break][break]

Her levity lessened here, becoming something a little more pensive and serious in nature as she considered the merit of adding her final statement, before breathing it out.[break][break]

"With declan walsh."

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He took the brunt of the splash, taking it as a playful invitation to draw closer. That familiar puckish smile twisted at his lips, too, as an arm found its way behind Elisabeth Fiorelli's exposed shoulders. He rested it there, propped on the stone rim of the sauna.[break][break]

"Attention from you? Of course. Who wouldn't?" The blonde had her ways; hot one moment, cold the next. It'd leave any man begging for more.[break][break]

Speaking of, Barnaby was dying to know more after she dropped the bombshell about speaking with declan walsh.[break][break]

"Oh?" He probed, pitching an eyebrow. "Go on."

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"You seem comfortable," she quipped, meeting the raise of his eyebrow with her own. "With any attention, if I were to venture a guess, not necessarily my own."[break][break]

The gentle weight of his arm settled around her shoulder, and she pulled her knees close to her chest, unknowingly making herself smaller in his presence. He had a way about him, she supposed; what that 'way' was, in essence, she had trouble describing or understanding in relation to herself.[break][break]

"The recent resignation of Killian Decker has left an opening in Rocket's upper brass, and I am expected to rise to that appointment." A pause let him mentally connect the dots before she did so for him, aloud. "As underboss."

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"..."[break][break]

Barnaby didn't immediately speak once she made the revelation known. Instead, he observed her demeanor: the way she pulled her legs to her chest, how she allowed his touch with less bite than usual, the cadence of her voice.[break][break]

A hand on her shoulder pulled Elisa a little closer to him, while his thumb stroked circles into the delicate skin there. Not in a seductive way, despite how it might look. It was a reassuring gesture. Born out of concern.[break][break]

"Did you accept?" [break][break]

Even if there was an expectation for her to rise, it didn't mean she necessarily had to ascend.

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She leaned into his touch. Welcomed it, even, as her head found rest upon his shoulder. The steam brought about a drowsy languor, and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she breathed it in deeply.[break][break]

"I did," she confessed to him. "But I suppose most would have."[break][break]

The warmth of him soothed her. Right or wrong, there was a safety to his presence that she had not always believed could exist there.[break][break]

A single green eye peeked open, considering the dark-haired man beside her as if seeing him for the first time.[break][break]

"Would you? Ascend, that is."

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Ascend?[break][break]

Of course. He would do whatever ROCKET required him to do. Inwardly, however, BARNABY FINCH’s lust for power demanded he rise to the highest position possible regardless of the organization’s whims. [break][break]

He was reminded of jayden cross and their recent New Year’s conversation. This interaction with Elisabeth Fiorelli was oddly similar, although decidedly more intimate. Barnaby squeezed her shoulder and rested his cheek atop her head, whispering:[break][break]

“I would.” He paused here, considering his next words carefully. [break][break]

“But I think Walsh made the right choice in you.”

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As he rested his cheek against her blonde head, the murmur of his low voice against her ear shivered through her; a gentle fluttering stirred in her chest, like the wingbeats of a Beautifly.[break][break]

The heat suffusing them both in this enclosed space seemed to suddenly radiate from within her, warming her with a soft, pleasant glow.[break][break]

It dizzied her.[break][break]

"You think more of me than most," she said finally, and whatever other thought she'd wanted to say crumbled and fell apart like wisps of steam as she looked into his cobalt eyes.

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"Your new position says otherwise," He answered back softly, shifting to accommodate the turn of her head. [break][break]

While close before, now there was direct proximity — face to face, cobalt eyes connecting with Elisa's emerald green. Conspicuously, Barnaby's gaze traveled lower and lingered on the supple curve of her lips. And then lower still down the clean angle of her jawline, the dip of her throat...[break][break]

"But..." The admin continued, his eyes snapping back up to meet hers once again. "I won't deny that you do cross my mind often."

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Elisabeth closed her eyes, but she could still feel the way his gaze lingered over her skin. Hers was a peculiar timidity: a childish instinct that said if you did not look at the thing that frightened you, surely it did not exist.[break][break]

Though this didn't feel like fear, either. That was part of what made it so dangerous.[break][break]

When Elisabeth allowed herself to meet his gaze once more, the thrill of anticipation hummed inside her at the mutual eye contact. An impulsive, excitable feeling took hold of her as he held her stare; some part of her recognized this instinct for what it was, and yet, she preferred pretending otherwise.[break][break]

"Is that right?"[break][break]

Her voice was soft, but heavy with things left unsaid as she studied him. A hand gently reached for his face, straying to his cheek only to find a damp curl of dark hair. She tucked it behind his ear and allowed herself a small, teasing smile.[break][break]

"Define often."

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They'd been here before, hadn't they?[break][break]

Except this time Elisabeth Fiorelli was the one tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Before, when he'd done it, he'd offered the small touch as an invitation for more, letting their first kiss fall on her terms.[break][break]

But the roles were reversed now. And so, so much time had passed since that day within the rose meadow. He didn't need to worry about scaring the lost little lamb anymore.[break][break]

He leaned in, allowing the hand at his cheek to fall and rest at the back of his neck. There was no misinterpreting his intentions now; their lips were too close for that, barely far enough apart for Barnaby to respond:[break][break]

"Every day, since the day we met."[break][break]

He spanned the little distance that was left. Their lips met again for the third time: not hesitant like the first, not selfish like the second.[break][break]

Tender. Caring. More honest than either of them had ever been.

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Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest, erratic and wild, as his lips met hers. Every part of her body responded to his touch as her mouth parted to welcome him in an eager and willing surrender.[break][break]

How many nights had the memory of rose petals and the gentle sound of his voice kept her from sleep?[break][break]

How many mornings had she awakened to wonder what it might be like to feel the warmth of his body beside her own?[break][break]

There was no deception to protect her, this time. No flimsy veneer of being a woman she wasn't kept her safe from harm.[break][break]

She let the current of emotion sweep her away, washing away her fears as she leaned into his embrace.[break][break]

She dared to feel something real.

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