double drabble
Every room has its own set of rules.
The glass table of the conference room means no real touching, only "accidental" brushes.
The anchor desk keeps them apart. During c-breaks they can move in and, under the guise of discussing notes, get close enough for a brief grope. But only if there's no one in the green room.
Archive Room B -- one of the few window-free rooms -- is the only place they dare kiss but they keep it quick as interns are always tracking down lost footage.
The couch in editing is tempting but gives them nowhere to hide if someone wanders in unexpectedly. Better to sit at the desk and make sure nothing untoward can be seen from the hall.
The restroom was out of the question. None of the stall dividers or doors reaches the floor. "Besides," Casey insists, "there're germs everywhere."
Their office allows no easy angle for keeping wayward hands out of view, so they stick to hovering around each other and getting in quick touches when they can.
They make a game of it, but they long for the day to end so they can hurry back to an apartment where there are no rules.