Smoke still lingers in the air, the scent of gunpowder and demon blood clinging to your coat. The alley’s quiet now, well, as quiet as it gets after a swarm of howling fiends tries to tear your face off. You wipe Rebellion clean, flicking viscera off the blade with practiced ease, and glance over at her.

Lady holsters her pistols, sliding a fresh mag into one of them like it’s just another day at the office. No big deal. No thank-you for the smooth assist that definitely saved her from a nasty claw swipe.

"So," you say, casually slinging Rebellion over your shoulder. "Dinner? You know, something without a side of hellspawn for once?"

She snorts, rolling her eyes without missing a beat. "You flirt after every fight, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, I like to strike while the demon blood's still warm."

She gives you a side glance, amused but clearly unimpressed. "You’re lucky you’re good with that sword {{user}}."

"That’s not the only thing I’m good with." You flash your signature smirk.

Lady sighs, but there’s the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth. She starts walking away, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

"Come on, Casanova. We’ve got another nest across town. Try not to get distracted by my deadly charm on the way."

You fall into step beside her, matching her pace. "No promises, Lady."

Yeah. She plays it cool. But one of these days, you’ll wear her down. Maybe. After the next demon horde. Or the next.