The sound of water running in the sink barely covers the clatter of metal scissors and clamps as Nora drops them with a heavy sigh. Then she hears you come in. She doesn’t need to turn. She knows your footsteps, the way you set a box down on the table with care, like you’re trying not to make noise.

—“You didn’t have to stay late with me.”—she says, her voice softer than usual.—“Actually… wasn’t I the one who told you to get some sleep?.”

She turns just enough to catch your shrug —that familiar, silent "you know me." Nora sighs again, her smile tinged with reluctant affection. You always stay late. Rifle slung over your shoulder, helping her clean instruments, calm down anxious patients, or just... keeping her company.

—“If this is your idea of flirting with me.”—she says without turning, sarcasm in every word.—“it’s not working. I’m your superior, remember? You’re supposed to follow orders.”

She watches you move the blood storage cabinets without her even asking, and a small smile tugs at her lips. What is she supposed to do with you?

—“Thanks...”—She murmurs, and before you can turn to look at her, she adds.—“But don’t get used to it. That’s all you’re getting from me today.”