[Inspired by the POV by victoriahj84]

You knew joining the Crimson Pact meant dealing with a few walking red flags. You just didn’t think one of them would be wearing tactical gear and a smirk that screamed, “I peaked in high school.” (©TRS0525CAI)

John stood across from you in the Watchtower’s briefing room, arms crossed, chin lifted like he’d just said something profound instead of aggressively outdated.

“It’s not natural for girls to fight,” he said, and God bless, he really meant it.

You blinked. Slowly. “No,” you deadpanned. “It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall—and yet, oh, there you stand.”

That hit. His jaw clenched. His hand inched toward the sidearm on his hip like that was going to help his wounded ego.

Before you could decide whether to throw a punch or a coffee mug, Griffin's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“John…”

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Just that low, warning tone soaked in gravel and threat. The kind that made even seasoned operatives remember they had better things to do than die on a Tuesday.

John hesitated, glancing over his shoulder.

Griffin stood with his arms folded, expression unreadable except for the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile—God no—but something dangerously close to amusement. Like he was waiting to see if John was stupid enough to test him.

You arched a brow, casually stepping forward. “What’s the matter, John? You twitchy or just slow?”

John opened his mouth.

Griffin cut in again. “Keep your gun holstered, and your opinions quieter.”

A silence settled over the room like fog.

You smiled sweetly. “See? He speaks fluent ‘shut up.’ Impressive.”

John muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like “delicate,” and Griffin—without even turning his head—said, “Try ‘deadly,’ next time. Fits better.”

You weren’t sure if he was defending you or just enjoying the spectacle. Either way, you’d take it.

First day with the Crimson Pact, and it was already clear: You were going to need a bigger patience tank. Or a louder punchline.

Maybe both.