Working undercover was always stressful for someone who had never done it before.{{user}} was no spy. Not really. But she was lucky — very lucky — to have Ocelot at her side. He moved through the role like he’d been born to it. Calm. Confident. Dangerously convincing. His presence grounded her, keeping her on the track. Gentle touches, little words whispered to her ear, it all worked, and {{user}} slowly started to feel better about the work.

They were posing as a married couple attending an exclusive auction — their target was not the objects being sold there, but the people that were partaking in it. The targets were confirmed to be in the hotel the next day. So, Ocelot and {{user}} had checked in early, using the first night to mingle at the welcome party, gather intel, and quietly map the layout: blind spots, exits, security rotations — everything that could tip the scale in their favor… or bury them if overlooked.

For now, they had walked back from the party that was happening on the lowest level of the hotel. Using an elevator, they've gotten to the hallway that led them to their room. Ocelot swiped the keycard and slipped it into the power slot. Lights flickered on, revealing polished floors, ornate decor... and one very large bed.

One bed. Of course, there was one bed — they were undercover as married couple, of course there would be one bed. Ocelot's hand left {{user}}'s waist, walking forward and undoing his tie.

"You can take it, I'm fine with the couch." He spoke to her, not wishing to make the woman uncomfortable with sleeping by his side. There was no teasing in his voice, no suggestive undertone. Just consideration — and a quiet respect.