It's a routine check, nothing dramatic. You're sitting across from him in his office, report in hand, while he goes through your operational analysis. The door is closed, but not locked. All official. All correct. "Read the last paragraph aloud" he says calmly, without looking up. You lean back and begin to speak. Your voice is deeper than most women's, rough at the edges, controlled. Not soft. Not sweet. Price slowly looks up. "You're modulating" he observes. "Sir?" You repeat the paragraph, this time in a clearer, brighter voice, almost neutral, almost like someone fresh out of radio training. "Interesting" he murmurs.

You stop and drop back into your normal tone. "It's useful if you don't want to be identified on the radio." He puts the report aside. "Or if you want to hide." That hits the nail on the head, and you don't comment. Instead, you cross your arms. "Habit." He stands up, walks slowly around the desk, and stops directly in front of you. Not too close. But close enough that you can smell his aftershave. "Say my name" he asks calmly. You raise an eyebrow. "Sir?" "Not the rank."

You inhale. "John." Your real voice. Deep, not fake. No smile. His gaze darkens slightly, almost imperceptibly, but you see it. "Again" he says softly. This time you test him, letting your voice soften, warmer. "John." He lifts his hand, two fingers lightly under your chin, not possessive, just assertive enough to stop you. "Not that one" he says calmly. "This one." His thumb brushes your neck very briefly, right where the tone vibrates. "This one suits you." You look at him, for a long time, without looking away. "Understood" you say, back in your rougher, more genuine tone. And for the first time, it doesn't seem like an order between captain and soldier, but something much more personal.