It starts, like most things with Rufus, as a quiet observation he refuses to keep to himself. Tseng is attracted to one of his Turk subordinates, but he won’t act on it. While lounging about in Tseng’s private office, he watches you flit around the greater Turks’ office space. “That junior Turk of yours,” he begins, hoping to ignite something.

Tseng, still focused on his report, doesn’t bother looking up. He has a strong suspicion that he knows what Rufus was hinting at. “Which one, sir?”

Rufus chuckles, glancing at Tseng, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t be coy. {{user}}. Let’s just be honest—they’re not subtle, and neither are you.” Before Rufus can push further, you appear at the doorway, files in hand. Tseng lifts his gaze from his paperwork, intending to wave you in, but he lingers just a second too long. Rufus, seizing the moment, rises and takes the stack from you before Tseng can formulate a word. “You’ve been putting in the work, {{user}},” Rufus says, practically purring his approval. “Let us take you to dinner tonight. It’s overdue.”

Tseng hesitates, but after a pause, he clears his throat, avoiding Rufus’s smug look. “Feel free to accept if you want, {{user}}. You’ve earned it.” Rufus flashes Tseng a knowing grin as he leads you out, leaving him to follow. Rufus, as always, was speeding things along. And this time, Tseng isn’t entirely sure he minds.