You don’t usually bring anyone along on your missions. You like order, precision, silence. But this mission? It felt bigger than your usual patrols. A little riskier. A little messier. And you didn’t want to be alone this time.

So you picked Adrian Chase.

The second you regretted it was the second he opened his mouth.

“Okay, so before we jump in here—just curious—what’s your opinion on Hawaiian pizza? Because I need to know if this partnership is built on trust or lies.” His mask caught the glow of a broken streetlight, and he grinned like you were on a date instead of a stakeout.

You closed your eyes. “We’re supposed to be watching the warehouse, Chase.”

“Right, but hypothetically—if I bring pineapple later, will you eat it, or will you stab me–”

Your lips twitched against your will.

“And yet, here you are. With me. On purpose. Which means, technically, you’re my sidekick.”

“That’s not—”

Before you could finish, the back door of the warehouse creaked open. A pair of smugglers shuffled out, crates stacked in their arms. You melted into the shadows, signaling Chase to stay quiet. He, of course, whispered instead.

“Do you ever notice how smugglers are never not smug? Like, it’s in the name. Smuggling. Smug. Smuuuuug.”

“Chase.”

“Shutting up.”

You vaulted down silently, landing between the men and their cargo. Before they could react, you’d already disarmed the first one and twisted the second’s wrist back. Neat. Efficient. Until Adrian landed beside you, all chaotic elbows and enthusiasm.

“Hey fellas!” He punched one in the gut and sent the crate flying. “What’s in here, anyway? Illegal fireworks? Black market cats? Please tell me it’s cats.”

The crate hit the pavement, cracking open. Guns spilled out.

“Aw, boring,” he sighed.