By midweek, the situation had evolved beyond Radha and Priya’s private whisper sessions and it had become an unofficial office sport.

On the QA floor, everyone had developed an uncanny ability to sense whenever Sameer pinged her. The moment “@Radha N” appeared in a Jira comment, four heads would snap up like meerkats. Someone would elbow someone else. Someone would smirk into their chai.

If Radha so much as smiled at her screen, even a microscopic twitch of her lips, then Priya would lean over and whisper, “Sameer again, isn’t it?” Radha would groan, bury her face in her hands, and the QA bay would quietly celebrate like they’d passed a secret test case.

Downstairs, the dev floor was even worse.

Dev had turned Sameer’s life into a full-blown romcom commentary track. He’d narrate like a dramatic voiceover, leaning against Sameer’s chair:

“Bro, the way you type her name? That’s not syntax… that’s emotion.”

Sameer didn’t look up. “Dev, I swear on every server we have, I will revoke your Jenkins access.”

Dev held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just pointing out facts. You’re one bug away from HR-level public affection.”

Sameer rolled his eyes so hard it was practically a workout but the little smirk tugging at his mouth ruined his attempt at indifference.

The gossip reached peak absurdity during Tuesday’s all-hands meeting.

The CTO, a man so legendary for forgetting employee names that he once addressed an entire team as “you folks” actually said, with a perfectly straight face:
“Great work on the Atlas 2.1 progress. Especially the QA and Dev collaboration. I hear there’s a real partnership there.”

The room rippled like someone had dropped a pebble into a pond.
Half the staff tried (and failed) to hide their smirks.
Priya looked seconds away from combusting.
Radha’s cheeks turned the shade of freshly deployed error logs.

And across the room, Sameer had to bite his lip so hard not to laugh that Dev elbowed him in admiration.

When the meeting finally ended, Radha practically speed-walked out, but her phone buzzed before she reached her desk.

Sameer K: we’re famous... it seems

Radha N: I’m moving to Antarctica...away from this

Sameer K: perfect. send Jira invite... will follow you like that vodafone wala puppy

Radha N: stop laughing...

Sameer K: can’t. my status is “LOL in progress.”

Radha closed her eyes, mortified but a smile slipped out anyway.

Later that afternoon, the universe disguised as Codelink management had struck again.

A fresh announcement landed in the #project-updates channel:
Project Vega, a high-stakes cross-department integration, was kicking off. Two weeks. Nonstop collaboration. QA and Dev joined at the hip.

During the meeting, Rohit delivered the news with the enthusiasm of a proud wedding planner. “Sameer and Radha will co-lead this feature,” he declared, practically glowing.

Priya choked on her coffee so loudly that three people turned.
Dev muttered under his breath, “Naturally. Destiny has no chill.”

Radha froze for a heartbeat, then forced her voice into something resembling professionalism. “Sure. Sounds… good.”

Sameer gave a calm nod, even though Dev could see the panic in his eyes. “We’ll sync offline,” he said, trying very hard not to smile.

The room answered with a wave of muffled laughter and far too many knowing looks, the kind that made both Radha and Sameer momentarily wish for a convenient building evacuation drill.

Their first Vega sync took place later that evening with just the two of them on a quiet Google Meet, no team chatter, no Dev making commentary, just the soft hum of their laptops and the steady patter of rain against their windows.

Sameer began, slipping into his work voice with calm, focused, and almost too professional.
“So… Vega looks heavy. Two API integrations, three new endpoints, and the client wants the first cut by next Friday.”

Radha nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We can manage it. I’ll take the test flow documentation and handle edge-case reviews with QA. You deal with dev dependencies and module stitching.”

“Works for me.”

A beat of silence settled with the kind that wasn’t awkward, just waiting.

Then Radha asked, “Are we really going to pretend we’re not the company’s newest headline?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “We could try. But I’m terrible at acting normal.”

“No kidding.”

He leaned back slightly, eyes warm. “Honestly? Let them do whatever they want. We know what’s going on.”

She met his gaze through the camera. “And what is going on?”

Sameer hesitated with a small, breathless pause like weighing a truth carefully. “Something… in progress,” he said softly.

Radha’s lips curved. “Using my own QA language against me? Bold move.”

“Engineer privilege,” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Probably,” he replied. “But you’re still here. On this call. With me.”

The next few days unfolded in a kind of beautiful, ridiculous chaos.
The good kind, the kind where two people work side by side, half talking code, half talking life, and somehow everything feels lighter.

They spent long stretches debugging, reviewing logs, rewriting test cases, and sending each other memes that probably violated five workplace etiquette rules. Without noticing it, they fell into an easy rhythm with messages answered instantly, calls joined without hesitation, and silences that felt strangely comfortable.

And beneath all that smooth teamwork, something quieter pulsed… a growing awareness that this wasn’t just collaboration anymore.

Priya noticed it the moment Radha said “we’ll fix it” instead of “I’ll fix it.”
Dev noticed it when Sameer started arriving fifteen minutes early before him, the man famous for showing up at “9:47-ish.”
Even Rohit noticed it when their ticket queue dropped at a speed typically reserved for divine intervention.

By Friday, Project Vega was somehow ahead of schedule, a first in Codelink history.

During stand-up, Rohit actually looked proud. “Fantastic progress, everyone. But special applause to our dynamic duo Sameer and Radha. Whatever magic you two are pulling off, keep it going.”

Dev elbowed Sameer dramatically. “You heard the boss. Continue the… synergy.”

Radha nearly inhaled her coffee.
Sameer, biting back laughter, whispered, “HR is absolutely making a case study out of this sprint.”

That evening, long after most of the office lights had flicked off and the cleaning staff began their quiet rounds, Radha was still at her desk—earphones in, logs scrolling across her screen like an endless monsoon.

A soft Slack ping broke her focus.

Sameer K: Still working?

Radha N: Yeah, finishing Vega regression. You?

Sameer K: Just pushed the final merge.…Want to grab dinner?

Her fingers froze above the keyboard. She stared at the message as if it might vanish.

Radha N: Dinner?

Sameer K: Yes. Dinner. The edible activity humans engage in after 7 p.m.

Radha N: I’m aware of what dinner is, Kapoor.

Sameer K: Great. Then you also know this is me asking you out.
For dinner...
Together...
As in: you and me, eating food.

She swallowed, heat blooming in her cheeks.

Radha N: This is a work dinner.

Sameer K: Absolutely. Completely professional.
I will bring my corporate voice.

Her heart thumped—too loud, too fast.

Radha N: Fine. 8 p.m. Blue Bean?

There was a two-second pause, and then—

Sameer K: Status update: Status: In progress... I meant “Looking forward.”