Hangman strode into the supply room, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face, but it faltered when he saw her. Lieutenant, the one everyone whispered about—stoic, stern, and always buried in paperwork behind her office door. She rarely left, and even fewer dared approach her.

He cleared his throat, leaning against the counter. “Guess I’ll be needing some new flight gear. Think you can handle that, Lieutenant?”

She didn’t look up, her sharp eyes still fixed on the forms in front of her. "You can take a seat and wait," she replied, her voice low and measured, devoid of any warmth.

Hangman raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her no-nonsense demeanor. No teasing. No flirting. Just business. For the first time in a long while, he was caught off guard.

He leaned in, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I’m gonna be real honest, Lieutenant, you’re a lot more intimidating up close.”