A/N: I will go down with this ship. Also, I feel like calling them the Ackermen now because it's really quite amusing.

Disclaimer: I don't own SnK.

She was waiting in the lift lobby, leaning against a wall, when a young man suddenly approached her.

"Hi! You're new here, aren't you?" He asked, an overly enthusiastic expression on his face. "I'm Jean Kirstein; I work down in the Human Resources department," he held out a hand for her to take.

"Mikasa Ackerman," she responded, shaking his hand firmly, once, then twice.

"So where do you work?" He asked, trying to juggle the ludicrous amount of paper stacked in his arms as he tried to lean his elbow against the bin on her left.

Just then one of the elevators let out a quiet ping, and its doors slid open silently. "Kirstein, is that you?" Someone inside asked impatiently. "Have you got the stuff? We're down to our necks in there in paperwork and if you're chatting someone up and leaving us with the work I'm going to murder you. Good morning, ma'am," he added as an aside, nodding politely in her direction before transferring his gaze to the now reddening Jean.

"I'll see you around," he said, getting a better grip on his papers as he walked hastily towards the elevator. "If you need anyone to show you around, just remember Jean Kirstein from HR—" his words were cut off as his friend pulled him bodily into the metal capsule, and the doors slid shut smoothly.

She waited for six more minutes and forty two seconds before another elevator slid smoothly to a stop on the ground floor and opened, revealing a man rather short in stature, but with a commandeering spirit about him. He wore dark, polished boots, and a crisp tailored black suit together with a pristine white cravat. His steps were deliberate as he crossed the lift lobby, his face impassive.

"You're late," Mikasa said with a scowl, as he stepped up to her.

"I did tell you I was going to be late," he frowned. "You could have come up to my office and waited for me there,"

"And miss the chance to get picked up by one of your employees? No thanks," she smiled, fitting her hand into his easily.

"Kirstein?" He guessed, sounding annoyed. "Tch—I should have known. He's always going after girls."

"If you don't like it, then fire him,"

"He's a good worker," he admitted reluctantly. "But he could be much more efficient if he stopped trying to pick up every attractive girl he sees." He started to walk out of the lobby, tugging her along with him. "Speaking of Jean; do you know that the HR department is in a huge mess because of your bratty brother?"

"Levi—" Mikasa sighed.

"I'm not firing him. I'm just saying that maybe you want to talk to him about making sure that he knows what he's doing before he actually does it,"

"Why don't you talk to him about it yourself? You're the boss, and he works for you,"

"He's scared of me," Levi scoffed. "And if I scare him—which I will—he's going to go running to you and you're going to come pick a fight with me about it even though I'm right."

Eren was Mikasa's adopted brother who was fresh out of college. Somehow, Mikasa had managed to convince Levi to give her brother an entry level job, on the conditions that Eren didn't expect any preferential treatment from the boss and didn't broadcast their relationship, and that Levi had the right to fire her "bratty brother" at any point in time.

She glared at him briefly. "Where are we going to eat?" They had, by now, left his office building and were walking down the cobbled path. His office was situated in a quaint part of town mostly populated by charming cafés and hobby shops, where the rent was high and his building the only one above three stories. "It's hot,"

He tugged at the red scarf she wore around her neck with his free hand. "If you took that off, you'd be a lot cooler than you are now,"

"I'm not taking it off," she said firmly, batting his hand away from her neck. "It's the heat that's the problem, not my scarf,"

Levi sighed, but didn't say anything more about it. He led her down the street a little way more, then turned into a street just off the main road. Mikasa recognized it straightaway—they'd first met here more than two years ago, when she'd accidentally bumped into him, causing them both to drop their briefcases and coffee cups in a flurry of papers.

She'd apologized, of course, but he'd only glared at her hard and given her a stern lecture instead of accepting it graciously like normal people would do. She'd yelled at him then. She'd had a week full of worthless, incompetent juniors working under her and irresponsible senior employees, and she just wanted some coffee, damn it, and really, if she should have been watching her way, then he should have been watching his, too. He'd responded by giving her a withering glare, gathered the last of his things, then stalked away, leaving her papers in a mess. The next day she walked into the same small café as the day before, but before she could order, the barista appeared by her elbow, offering her a small bag, telling her it was paid for by "the man from the day before". When she'd opened it in her office, she'd found a large cup of coffee, a blueberry muffin and a napkin with the word "Sorry" written across it in clipped, caustic letters. She hadn't even known that a word could be caustic before, much less one like 'sorry', but there it was. She ate the muffin and drank the coffee, but the napkin stayed stowed away in her desk drawer.

They'd met again just two weeks after their initial meeting, when she was forced to attend a blind date set up by her friend Connie, who insisted that his friend was "just the right man for you!" She'd spent the better part of an hour listening to him talk about himself, and trying to fend off his physical advancements. She'd just about had enough and was about to slap the smarmy little asshole, never mind the fact that he was Connie's friend, when Coffee Asshole, as she had taken to calling him in her mind, had suddenly approached them with a sneer on his face, and managed to pull her into the crowd with him.

"Thanks," she'd muttered, a little sore that she hadn't managed to punch the guy, but realizing that it was probably better that she hadn't gotten the chance to.

"Mm," was the only response she'd gotten, as he hauled her out into the crisp night air.

She'd looked at him standing by the door, brushing off his suit. Past his figure, she could see that in spite of the pressing crowds and dim lighting, it was fairly easy to look in past everyone and see Connie's friend still sitting there, slightly drunk and very confused. "Do you want to go get some coffee?" She'd finally asked, just as he was about to walk off. "I think there's a small café around here that's still open."

They'd started dating soon after, and the café where they'd first met became a regular place for them to meet up. It helped that it was off the road and not many people knew about it, because neither of them particularly wanted their employees to see them outside of the office. They both had a reputation as 'the devil reincarnate' in their respective offices, known for being brusque and completely unforgiving of any mistake made, however minor. Though still as competitive and abrasive as ever when they were together, however, Mikasa and Levi tended to let out a more tender and affectionate side, no matter how much they denied it, and it wouldn't be good to let their co-workers see this side of them.

Now they turned into the café, picking a seat in the least conspicuous corner of the room, with Levi going towards the cashier to place their order while she let herself relax in the booth. He came back shortly after, carrying two cups of black coffee while balancing a plate with a muffin on it.

"You haven't eaten breakfast, have you?" He asked, while pushing the cake over to her. "Eat this, so you won't starve before lunch,"

"Do you want some?" She offered, splitting it into two easily with her fork.

"No," he said, taking a slow sip from his coffee, the black liquid staining his lips. Just then, his phone buzzed quietly on the table next to him. "Excuse me," he turned slightly away from her towards the window as he picked up.

"What?" His irritation grew as the conversation drew on, showing in the most subtle of manners. His speech was slightly terser than usual, lips pursed tighter, and his movements, while usually very disciplined, stopped altogether, and became much more deliberate when he did move. He ended the phone call without so much as a "So long and fuck you," instead hanging up on whichever poor soul was on the other end of the line.

"Trouble in the company?" She asked. The whole thing was usually well-oiled and could run well enough on its own, but had lately come into several problems all at once, resulting in multiple nights where he didn't leave his office at all and spent the whole day dealing with paperwork and "fuckwits".

"I'd just managed to get everything back on track, but this asshole comes waltzing into my company and screws everything up again," he muttered.

"He's not Eren, is he?"

"No," he confirmed, sitting back in the booth.

"Do you have to go back and deal with it?"

"It's fine; Erwin's on it. If there's anyone else that can deal with this crap it's going to be him," Erwin was Levi's partner in the company; though he was usually in charge of other dealings that required any amount of socializing, he still came in from time to time to help out with the employees and paperwork.

The conversation turned to other more mundane things, like Eren's current girlfriend (who worked in his company as well, and was a lot more efficient than he was, thank goodness) and books they had recently read. Throughout it all, Mikasa kept noting that Levi was sparing her muffin a lot more glances than usual, and she pushed it toward him. "If you want some, just ask. You don't have to keep looking at it,"

"I'm not angling after your breakfast, Ackerman," he said. "Eat it,"

She rolled her eyes, but pulled it back and continued her methodical butchering of her cake. When she was done, Levi produced a small box from the inner folds of his suit, placed it on the table, and slid it towards her. "Open it." His request came out sounding more like a command, and she took it with a slight glare towards his person.

The box opened easily, revealing a simple ring with a sapphire set in silver. Opposite her, Levi was getting down on the floor on one knee (Levi who washed his floors twice, Levi who wouldn't trust anyone else to vacuum his own office carpet, Levi who abhorred dirt) without so much as a wince.

"Ackerman, will you marry me?"

"Get off the ground, you idiot," she hissed. "You're going to crease your suit and dirty it, and it's the first thing you're going to bitch to me about after we get engaged."

He smirked at her, getting up more than willingly, and returned to his seat, brushing off his pants as he did so. "Hanji told me to stick the ring into the muffin and said that you'd be more surprised by it, but let's face it, it's completely disgusting and uncivilised," he told her. "Besides, you'd probably get food poisoning,"

"You've probably cleaned this ring five times over with hand sanitizer and polish, so I'd probably be fine, but I appreciate the sentiment anyway," she smiled at him, catching his hand underneath the table mid-brush. "How's the leg feeling?"

"Like shit," he grumbled. "I should have done this in my own office,"

"It's not like you would feel any cleaner," she half-laughed, standing up and pulling him along with her. "Let's go back to your office so you can get a change of clothes and stop fidgeting in that extremely unbecoming manner,"

They walked back to the building slowly, hands intertwined, the metal on her finger just beginning to warm up under the hot June sun.

When they got back to his lift lobby, she pulled away slightly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I can't go up to your office; I still have a lot of work I have to finish by today," she told him, a hint of regret colouring her words. "Why don't I meet you for dinner tonight?"

"Sure," he smiled softly at her. "Seven, at my place? I'll cook,"

She nodded, then kissed him again, then turned to walk away. Turning one more time, she smiled at him and waved, the ring on her finger sparkling under the sterile white lights of his office building. He nodded in response with a small, almost undefinable smile on his face, before turning and striding into an elevator.

Just beyond the lift lobby, in a small, almost unnoticeable room, two men peeked out from behind the door.

"Fuck, that was the boss' girlfriend?" Jean whispered, near hysterical. "I hit on the boss' girlfriend! I'm so screwed. Marco, is he going to fire me?"

Behind him, Marco peered around the lift lobby, ignoring Jean's theatrics. "Was the boss actually smiling?"

"Marco," Jean hissed. "Focus on me, here! I'm so fired, and all you're thinking about is that he can smile,"

"You know, we've never seen him smile before, or exhibit any emotion other than anger and disappointment," his friend said thoughtfully.

"Marcooooo," Jean whined, shoulders sagging. "I can't believe I hit on the boss' girlfriend."