The sound of metal clanking filled the Man Cave as you worked, effortlessly maneuvering your tools with practiced ease. Ray stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk—but not because he doubted your skills. No, you were good. Too good. That was the problem.

"You know, I could’ve just called Schwoz," he muttered, though he made no move to stop you.

You tightened a bolt on the malfunctioning snack machine, giving it a firm, precise kick. The machine hummed back to life instantly.

Ray exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he watched the lights flicker back on. "Okay, that was kinda hot," he admitted, half to himself.

You didn’t look up, but the smirk tugging at your lips was unmistakable.

His gaze lingered a little longer than it should have, following you as you moved toward the tubes, which were still lifeless. You leaned in, fiddling with the control panel, but the machine refused to budge. Ray sighed dramatically and, in typical fashion, smacked the side of the console. Nothing.

Frustrated, you reached around him, your movements calm but deliberate.

Ray barely resisted the urge to glance down as you leaned in, way too close for his peace of mind. Instead, he grabbed a wrench and slammed it against the control panel.

It sparked.

You stared at him, unimpressed, but then dropped to your knees, rerouting the wiring.

For a moment, he almost forgot to breathe.