They had nothing to say to each other. Words had never been able to express how they felt anyway. Every word out their mouths' had been critical or downright spiteful. They did professional perfectly, personal was where it went wrong. Intended compliments came out as snide, provoking arguments; the simplest thing could blow up into a row. She didn't quite know what others made of the animosity between them.
This was where it finally went right, in a twisted way as she might predict would happen to them. A comment about his latest theory over the coffee break had resulted in yet another 'discussion', and things had soon escalated to jabbing insults. As she'd shouted back she'd felt her heart beating faster, blood pressure rising, adrenaline pumping – and she'd realised she had to get out there, if only for her health. Striding out of the lab she'd found him following her, unable to give up on the issue. Of course she hadn't been able to resist his taunts, she couldn't let him have the last word. But she hadn't expect him to follow her all the way to the elevator – and get in too.
Maybe it was the realisation this wasn't going anywhere, that arguments didn't resolve anything, or it could have been the fact that there was a constancy to them – the passion with which they pursued that elusive victory.
And this was the real victory – an end to the argument for once, and much more pleasurable use of that energy they usually have between them. His arms snake around her waist and his breathe is hot in her ear as he tries to say something to explain away their current predicament. But she has to stop him there, finger to hush his lips briefly before she presses a teasing kiss to them. Maybe this won't last, maybe it shouldn't or can't, but she wants for once that focus to be on them. It's possible they do better at personal when no words are involved – she hopes so, because if they can kiss even a fraction as well as they fight then she might not care about words for long enough to be happy with him.