The Bureau banquet is louder than I expected.
Agents from every division fill the ballroom, clusters of dark suits and dress uniforms moving between tables while soft music drifts through the space. Morgan is halfway through telling Rossi a story when the doors at the front of the room open again.
Morgan glances over.
Then he stops mid-sentence.
“…Well damn.”
Garcia follows his line of sight.
“What—”
She cuts herself off.
“Oh.”
I look up.
And immediately wish I hadn’t.
Cynthia walks into the ballroom like the room belongs to her.
No tactical vest. No rifle. No command radio clipped to her shoulder. Just a black silk dress that moves with every step she takes. Thin straps over her shoulders. Her platinum hair loose down her back. The lights catch the tattoo sleeves on both arms and suddenly half the room is staring.
Garcia inhales sharply.
“Oh my god those tattoos.”
Rossi smiles into his drink.
“Well that’s a different uniform.”
Morgan nudges my shoulder.
“Pretty boy.”
I don’t answer.
Because my brain is still catching up to the fact that the woman walking across the room is my ex-wife.
Three years.
Three years since we signed the divorce papers.
Three years since I convinced myself the marriage had mostly existed on paper.
Morgan leans forward slightly.
“Reid.”
“Yes.”
“You were married to that.”
“I am aware.”
Garcia swats his arm.
“Derek!”
“What? I’m just stating facts.”
I’m still watching the entrance.
Because Cynthia didn’t walk in alone.
The man beside her is wearing a slightly oversized suit and glasses that rival my own. Cyber Division, judging by the badge.
But that’s not the surprising part.
The surprising part is the way he’s holding her arm.
Not possessive.
Not awkward.
Just… completely comfortable.
His hand rests lightly around her forearm as they walk, and he’s looking at her like she personally invented gravity.
The Cyber agent says something animatedly.
I can’t hear it over the music, but I see him grin.
Then I hear the words clearly as they get closer to the bar.
“My Wonder Woman.”
He says it like he’s announcing a scientific discovery.
Cynthia tilts her head slightly while he keeps talking.
“…I’m serious. You took down three armed suspects last week and still made it to coffee on time. That’s objectively incredible.”
He continues talking with the unrestrained enthusiasm of someone who clearly does not realize half the room can hear him.
“I’m serious,” he says, gesturing animatedly with his drink. “Last month we were working an incident with HRT and she coordinated three separate entry teams at the same time. Three. Different. Teams. And she still knew exactly where every operator was on the grid.”
He glances toward Cynthia beside him, clearly impressed.
“It’s like watching someone play chess in real time, except the pieces are tactical units.”
He laughs softly.
“And the wild part? She acts like that’s just… normal.”
He shakes his head with obvious admiration.
“Honestly, she's amazing.."
Morgan slowly leans back in his chair.
“…Oh man.”
Garcia covers her mouth.
“Derek stop.”
Morgan glances between me and the couple across the room.
“That guy is completely gone.”
I watch the Cyber analyst beam at Cynthia like she hung the moon.
Morgan nudges me again.
“Looks like she found herself a fan club.”
My brain tries to process the situation logically.
Statistically speaking there are numerous reasons someone might attend a formal Bureau event with another agent.
Professional networking.
Departmental coordination.
Operational partnership.
But the Cyber analyst looks at her again with open admiration.
The same way—
The same way I used to.
Morgan studies my face.
“You good?”
I adjust my glasses slowly.
“Statistically speaking,” I say quietly, “I believe I may have made a critical error.”
Morgan raises an eyebrow.
“What kind of error?”
Across the room the Cyber agent is still talking enthusiastically while Cynthia listens.
“The kind,” I murmur, “where you miscalculate the value of something… and realize it several years too late.”