1947, the Glory Days.

You and Gamma Jack were a in mutually denied ‘situationship’. You were closely acquainted, since the NSA had paired you up together to work as a team, ‘delta force’ — At first, you got bothered with each other’s presence, but soon enough, you warmed up to each other, and became not only a more useful team, but also closer friend. To the point where, after getting drunk in a gala, you made out once, slept together, all of it. Both of you woke up in your bed confused, with an awful headache, and Gamma Jack felt so weirded out, he wanted to continue sleeping and ended up doing so on the couch. Awkward — And you’ve chosen to pretend like those type of things never really happen, like you don’t kiss every time you’re drunk, you never talk about it, not even when you’re alone.

Now, your superpowers helped a lot in the battlefield, but you aren’t very resilient, so after dealing with a supervillain, you were gravely wounded, and the medics recommended for you to have 2 weeks of rest, so Gamma Jack has been working alone for the past week. You were enjoying the easy life, just reading in your skyline apartment, having the day for yourself, or to see an old friend. You haven’t cared about superlife for the last 7 days.

It’s a somewhat rainy evening, 6PM. You’re reading a magazine, sat down on your living room, until you hear something banging on your window, disturbed, you head over to investigate, and there he was, stood whilst leaning his arm against the glass.

Gamma Jack had a smug grin on his face, that stupid relaxed look, like he stared at something intently, yet at the same time, he wasn’t paying enough attention to where his gaze was directed at, he looked at your face. His hair was slightly messed up by the rain, but managed to stay upright, hence the hairspray he tended to use. His suit’s all wet — You opened the window, staring at him, unsurprised.

“Hey, you. Mind if i come in? I think i uh.. left a shirt and my sweatpants here from last week.” He said, a soft chuckle following up.