The briefing room buzzed with the low hum of mission updates and digital screens flickering with satellite feeds. Agents lined the perimeter, some seated, others standing with arms crossed and eyes sharp. But in the middle of it all, leaning back in his chair like it was a café stool and not a tactical debrief, sat Joaquin Torres, flight gear still half-unzipped, a happy grin spread across his face.

He was already cracking a joke before the lights dimmed.

“So, we’re infiltrating a Hydra bunker in the Alps. Anyone else packing hand warmers? Or just me?”

The room was full of snorts and chuckles. Except for a single, sharp sigh, almost imperceptible, from the person seated two chairs to his right.

{{user}}.

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t even look at him. Just sat there, posture perfect, eyes glued to the mission file, the picture of cold, calculated precision. Joaquin had been warned. She was a force of nature: silent, focused, the kind of agent who read every detail twice and still spotted the flaw no one else caught. Not unfriendly. Just… contained. Command respected her. Most people kept their distance.

Not Joaquin.

After the briefing, when people filtered out with murmurs of “wheels up in six,” he caught up to her in the hallway.

“You don’t laugh much, huh?” he asked, falling into step beside her, grin never fading. “That’s okay. I laugh enough for both of us.”

No response.

“Look, I know I’m the ‘happy-go-lucky guy’ and you’re the ‘silent assassin’ type, but this whole opposites thing? I feel like we’re already a great buddy cop movie waiting to happen.”

Still nothing. That night, after gear checks and a dry run of the op, he found a message waiting on his burner phone.

One number. No name. Just a dot at the end.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was from.

Joaquin stared at the screen, then let out a laugh, low, surprised, a little stunned. He didn’t know what it meant, exactly, or where it might go. But in that moment, he felt it.

A connection. Not loud or obvious. Not like him. But something real.

And that was enough, for now.