Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[He hangs up too, slow, and he gets up, hand on the backa his neck, chin to his chest, doing a lil pacing before Sam slips into the office. The station is empty, save Cris and Dispatch, and things are slow anyway.—When the gringa comes in, he looks over and his serious expression dissolves into a grin—a smile that goes warm as wax under flame, the lidsa his eyes lowering as he draws over to her, hands to the hipsa that coat.] Hey, mami. [There's just enough space for him to look between them.] Lookin' good. [He kisses her, pressing close, closing that gap between bodies and still smirking, like they weren't just talking 'bout something serious.]