A podfic of "Wing Night" by fartherfaster.
“Sam,” she says brightly, “what’s up?”
He pauses in the doorway, watching as Maria straightens up, slinging a sleek leather bag over her shoulder. She’s in a smooth, tightly tailored suit that’s all clean lines; the pointed toes of her heels, the length of her legs, the strength in her bared arms, the bones of her cheeks. Corporate business is a good look for her, and he tries not to swallow his own tongue.
“If you like,” he says, “I’d like to take you out for a drink.”
Prompt fill for "Sam/Maria + dance" that got a little out of hand.