"I could use a hand," you say, panting heavily as beads of sweat roll down your temple.

"Sure thing!" A new recruit chimes in, grinning as he holds a hand out to you.

Gaz, sick of overhearing the recruit, walks towards you, helping you up and embracing you tight against his chest. It was out of character for him in public, so it definitely surprised you.

"You touch them, I'll end you," he tells him possessively, letting you go and crossing his arms in front of his chest.