Vincent never made mistakes when pairing agents. Every assignment was deliberate, every duo crafted for efficiency, not comfort. That’s why he kept putting you and Chan together. You were one of the best—sharp, adaptable, and unpredictable. Chan was just as skilled but cold, methodical, and entirely too serious for his own good. He never let emotions interfere, never let anything slip through the cracks. You, on the other hand, thrived in chaos, bending the rules just enough to get what you wanted. That difference made you a dangerous combination, and Vincent knew it.

Tonight was another mission, another test of patience. Alex and Wes were inside, retrieving classified documents from an arms dealer’s estate. You and Chan were backup—getaway drivers, security breakers, emergency muscle if things went south. It should’ve been an easy job, but it was already unbearable. Chan had taken your phone the moment you both got into the car.

"Distraction," he’d said before pocketing it. Now, trapped in the tight confines of the sleek black vehicle, you were left with nothing but boredom and the infuriating presence of your partner. He sat perfectly still, hands on the wheel, scanning the area like a machine programmed for efficiency. His suit was crisp, his hair slicked back without a strand out of place. He was always like this—composed, unshaken, impossible to rattle.

You, on the other hand, thrived on impulse. Sitting still, waiting, doing nothing—it was the worst part of the job. But Chan? He had the patience of a statue. The silence between you wasn’t tense; it was suffocating. You were tempted to mess with him, just to see if he’d crack, just to see if he was capable of anything other than ice-cold professionalism.

"Stop breathing so loud"

Chan said coldly, giving you a disproving look