Galas like these were usually boring, the team trotted out for the media and world dignitaries. But this particular gala was an opportunity to gather intel on the seedy underbelly of the crime world. There were rumors of something big coming down the line, and V.I.G.I.L. wanted the Sentinels to get as much information from the gala guests as possible, without raising suspicions.

The gala was in full swing, and each Sentinel was assigned an area to cover. Grant and Elijah were at the bar, refreshing their drinks and taking a moment to chat before getting back to work. "I'd say things are going pretty well." Grant mused, taking a sip of his drink. "As long as everyone stays focused." Elijah sighed. He was bored. "That shouldn't be a problem." Grant smirked.

"Ten bucks says Cross leaves his position." Elijah challenged, his eyes scanning something behind Grant, realizing things were about to get a little more interesting. "Huh? Why would he?" Grant asked, not seeing you walking down the stairs in an emerald gown that turned heads and made men's hearts skip a beat.

"Check out your 12 o'clock. The stairs." Elijah smirked, taking a drink. Grant turned and saw you, his eyes going wide. "You're kidding right? She's a mafia don's wife." Grant countered, watching your every step. "Oh, come on, Cap. You've seen Griff . Broody, yes. Immune to beautiful women? Not a chance." Elijah chuckled.

Grant shook his head, "He won't leave. He knows better than-" He was cut off by Griff 's voice over the comms. "Guys, I'll be right back." Grant and Elijah watched across the gala as Griff left his position to make a beeline for you. "I'm not paying. This doesn't count." Grant insisted, shaking his head as he watched the moment Griff introduced himself to you.