Jake and Abbie play with the office copy machine

Jake paused as he walked by the copy room, watching Abbie through the glass partition. She was bent over the machine, her brow furrowed in concentration, pressing buttons with increasing frustration. He couldn't help but notice how her pencil skirt hugged her curves as she leaned forward.

"Need a hand?" he asked, stepping into the room.

Abbie looked up, blowing a strand of red hair from her face. "Jake! Thank god. This stupid thing is possessed."

"Technology demons strike again?" He moved beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

"I replaced the toner, but look at this." She held up a paper with smudged black streaks. "Everything's coming out looking like a crime scene."

Jake took the paper, examining it. "Hmm, very artistic. Maybe we should frame it and call it 'Corporate Nightmare #7'?"

Abbie laughed, the sound light and melodic. "I need twenty copies of this report for tomorrow's meeting, not abstract art."

"Where's Marcia? Isn't fixing the copier her sacred duty?"

"Admin team meeting. They're all trapped in that budget review thing."

Jake rolled up his sleeves as he moved beside her. The copy room wasn't large, and their shoulders brushed as he leaned in to examine the control panel. "Well then, looks like you're stuck with amateur hour. Let me see what I can do." He leaned over the machine, purposely mimicking a mechanic's stance. "Yep. It's definitely a copier."

Abbie rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "Your powers of observation are truly remarkable. Any other brilliant insights?"

"I also detect the presence of buttons. Lots of them." Jake wiggled his eyebrows as he pressed a few on the control panel. "Let's try resetting the whole system."

"Already tried that," Abbie said, but moved closer to watch what he was doing. The copy room felt smaller with both of them inside, the air between them charged with something more than just frustration over malfunctioning office equipment.

Jake held down the power button until the machine went dark, then waited a moment before turning it back on. "Sometimes these things just need a little... stimulation." He winked at her.

"Is that your professional opinion?" Abbie asked, her voice dropping slightly lower.

"Absolutely. I minored in Copier Psychology." The machine hummed back to life, lights blinking in sequence. "See? It's responding to my touch already."

Abbie laughed, leaning against the counter beside him. "Well, let's see if your magic hands have fixed the problem." She handed him her original document.

Jake placed it on the glass, closed the cover, and hit the copy button. They both waited as the machine whirred and clicked, finally spitting out a page that was... still smudged, though perhaps slightly less so.

"Hmm, looks like I need to work harder to satisfy this particular machine," Jake said, examining the copy, but targeting the tone of his voice toward Abbie.

"I think it's teasing us now," Abbie said, taking the smudged copy from Jake's hands. Their fingers brushed, and she felt a small jolt of electricity that had nothing to do with the malfunctioning copier.

"Maybe we should try cleaning the roller." Jake opened the side panel, revealing the inner workings of the machine. "These things collect more dust than my apartment."

"That's not saying much. I've seen your desk," Abbie teased, leaning in to look. She was close enough that Jake could smell her perfume -- something light and floral that made him momentarily forget about the copier.

"Hey, I maintain a highly sophisticated organizational system. I call it 'controlled chaos.'" He grabbed a paper town from a nearby roll and carefully wiped along one of the rollers. "Sometimes it's the simplest solution that works best."

"Is that your life philosophy?" Abbie asked, watching his hands work with surprising dexterity.

"Only on Tuesdays. And during copier emergencies." Jake closed the panel and straightened up. "Let's give it another try."

This time, when the copy emerged, it was slightly better, though still not perfect.

"Progress!" Abbie declared, holding up the paper triumphantly. "We've upgraded from 'crime scene' to 'slightly dirty protest sign.'"

"I'll take it as a win," Jake laughed. "You know, most people would have given up by now. But I know you, and you've never backed down from a challenge." He smiled at her, his eyes suggesting something more than copies.