It must surely be the hottest day ever recorded at the base; everyone struggled to cope, many resorting to shedding layers of clothing. As you approached the recreation room, your displeasure with the heat was palpable. Simon couldn’t help but find it amusing—there you were, clad in a tank top and cargo shorts, a sight that struck him as somewhat comical. You were rarely out of uniform, save for when you slept.

Simon shared your disdain for the sweltering heat, though he kept his complaints to himself, opting instead to tease you about your disgruntled appearance. He had chosen long cotton shorts and a simple white T-shirt to combat the heat, and had even downgraded his balaclava to a basic mask, allowing his head some much-needed ventilation. As your best friend since you both joined the task force, he felt comfortable enough to poke fun at you.

“C'mere, let me braid your hair,” he offered, gesturing for you to sit between his legs. He anticipated your request, knowing you had your brush and hair tie at the ready.