<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">There was much to explore on that flash drive, but with Oliver having snuck his hand beneath hers to take over the mouse, Gen didn’t have much control over what they looked at or when. She had a sneaking suspicion that was what Oliver wanted after she had opened up the folder of what he had insinuated were human trafficking victims. But she said nothing, instead lifting her hand away despite the urge to have that contact with him, and folded her hands neatly while she continued to lean her arms on the desk and watch his decisions on the computer screen. She was still debating in her mind which was worse, finding out your boyfriend had a bunch of homemade pictures of scantily clad women on his computer, or that they were actually victims of your boyfriend’s profession. Those thoughts scattered when a picture of Oliver’s dead sister filled the screen. She took in the features she’d seen a couple times, but then her eyes darted over to him to see what his reaction was. Understandably not a good one.<br/>
<br/>
Gen would have offered him solace somehow, but he went on to look at the last couple pictures, only to give up with a series of fuck’s that caused her lips to temporarily quirk in amusement. But there were many questions that came from just that folder alone, ones she voiced while Oliver moved the mouse across the computer screen for different folders, “Who was that guy with the black hair? And what about the other person? I didn’t get a good look at them. And what the hell are <i>Potentials?</i> Does this mean he potentially wanted to kill us…?” Gen’s voice trailed off while her eyes took in more pictures of someone, only this time the pictures appeared grainy and from a distance. What the hell was going on?<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe that woman is The Viper,” Genevieve speculated out loud with a hint of humor in her voice, “That could be kinda badass.” She watched Oliver try to open the encrypted files, then shook her head at the question of whether she could crack the codes. “Before today, I would have been adamant I could guess any code of Nathan’s you threw at me,” she told him truthfully with a sigh, “But encryptions are usually more complex than a regular password, right?” Then she straightened to a full stand and tugged her phone from its makeshift place at her hip, where it was nestled between her skin and workout pants, “I know someone though. Her girlfriend is our production manager and she may or may not work for a company that rhymes with frugal.”<br/>
<br/>
Fingers swift, hand at the ready, Genevieve turned and leaned against the desk while the phone rang in her ear. Her free hand dropped down to her side and consequently brushed against the length of Oliver’s forearm. Gaze lowering, she watched her fingers hesitantly reach out, then slowly trail. His arm was warm, firm, nicely peppered with arm hairs that tickled her fingertips, and Gen allowed her touch to brush down to his wrist. Her dark eyes flickered up to his face to see how he was reacting to her curious, hesitant exploration until a voice answered with a greeting that caught her attention. Without much thought to it, her hand flattened atop Oliver's larger one.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, Mac, are you busy today? I wanted to see if you might be willing to come help me out with a project,” Gen began, eyes drifting from the hazel ones that were more beguiling with every glance in his direction, “I need into some encrypted files I found on my flash drive, do you think—“ She paused, listened to the feminine voice on the other end, and shrugged, “Well, I mean you could…I’ll have to ask….It’s a long story. I’ll text you the address, okay? Thanks, Mac.” Gen hung up, then offered Oliver the most innocent smile she could muster, knowing full well he was likely not going to enjoy what she was about to suggest if it meant involving another person, “Mac can open up those files, but she has to be able to come here. So I’m gonna text her your address, okay?”</span>