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Kira sets the laptop aside, message on the consulate employee intranet where she can see it. Intranet isn't exactly a popular way of communicating, and seeing as the person they're trying to contact decided that shuttling drugs through the American consulate was a good idea, she doesn't have much hope that they have the intelligence to check the intranet. Who knows how long it could take to get a reply.
In all honesty, Kira is almost hoping for a delayed response. Maybe that's cruel of her, seeing as Sara is obviously in a state of pure panic over Josh's kidnapping, but she needs the break. The constant running from guards, hiding from security cameras, and threat of danger is wearing on her. If she's going to escape, she needs her mind to be sharp. Glancing at Sara sitting next to her, bruises and scrapes decorating what skin she can see, Kira thinks that Sara could do with a break as well. She won't be able to find Josh if she's exhausted.
Kira's chest rises and falls rapidly, and she puts her hands over her heart. It's been five minutes since they dove into the auditorium's control booth, but she's still out of breath, her heart beating rapidly.
"Holy shit," she whispers, willing her heart to slow.
Sara raises her head and looks at Kira. "What are you doing?" she asks, and Kira feels trapped in the intensity of her gaze.
"Not all of us are special agents with experience in this, Sara," Kira says. "It's called adrenaline and not working out for a living."
Sara rolls her eyes. "You're exaggerating." She leans over to put two fingers against the pulse point on Kira's throat.
Kira holds still against Sara's cool fingers, aware of how ridiculous her heart rate must be to someone who is ex-special forces, no matter how much Sara says that was a lifetime ago.
"More like holy fuck," Sara says, but she doesn't lift her hand from Kira's throat or sit back.
The blood on Sara's face is fully dry, and without her haphazard ponytail in, there is a slight softness to her face that is at odds with her gritty determination. Her lips have relaxed, and there is the tiniest hint of a smile at the edges.
Suddenly, Kira's heart rate isn't high just because they're trying to escape the American consulate, and she places her hand over Sara's fingers, holding them to her neck.
"What are you doing?" Sara asks, voice a whisper, but she doesn't try to pull away.
Kira pulls at the hem of Sara's top. "Come here," she whispers in return, and is pleased to find that Sara leans in even more. "Just relax for a few minutes. I promised to help you find Josh, but we can't do anything until we hear back from whoever owns the gym bag." She tugs again, and Sara follows the pull, resting her body against Kira's with only a bit of hesitation.
"You'll tell me when the guy responds?" Sara asks.
"I set the laptop to chime when someone replies." Kira tucks a strand of Sara's hair behind her ear.
Sara blinks slowly. "Okay," she says. "And Josh will be fine?"
Kira doesn't know what that is in response to, but she nods. "There's nothing we can do but wait," she says. Sara doesn't respond, just continues to stare at Kira, and Kira knows this isn't the best time—they were just talking about Sara's kidnapped kid and they're on the run—but it's been months since there's been a good time.
She presses her lips to Sara's.
Her heart echoes in her head, time passing with each beat, and it seems like eternity before Sara's lips move, but they do, and then they are kissing in earnest, hands tugging each other closer as if less space between them will translate to less noise.
The laptop sits silently behind them.