Music. Drinks. You were dressed the part in a dress and Mark in a tux. No badge. No vest. You weren’t here together. Not officially. When your eyes met across the room, there was a split second of recognition and tension but no words. Because undercover meant separation. Meant no handholding. No comfort. No tells. So you let him pass you on the way to the stairs, and you waited thirty seconds before following. By the time you reached the hallway at the top of the stairs, Mark was already dragging an unconscious man. You stepped inside a room after him, just in time to see the other guy. Security. Still awake. Still alert. And armed. “Hey-!” the guard started, already reaching for something, but you raised your hands, stepping between him and Mark. “It’s not what it looks like,” you tried, but he didn’t give you the chance. He swung, hard, and the back of his hand cracked against your cheek, knocking you sideways into the filing cabinet. You hit the ground wall, your vision stinging white for a second. That was all it took. Mark turned on the guy like a storm. No hesitation. No words. Just fists. The security guard barely had time to get his arm up before Mark had him slammed into the wall, punch after punch. You’d seen him fight before, but this was different. This was personal. He didn’t stop until the man was out cold. And when he finally turned to you, his chest was heaving. “You good?” You nodded. “I’m okay.” Then, a sound. Footsteps, quick. “Someone’s coming,” you waved him back and hid behind the tall server rack. The door opened. The man walked in, eyes flicking from Mark to the unconscious bodies and that was his mistake. He didn’t see you coming until gun cracked against the back of his skull. He went down hard, unconscious before he hit the floor. You exhaled hard. “Three bodies in five minutes. Nice.” Mark didn’t answer. He reached for your wrist and led you out of the room without looking back. Down the narrow stairwell. Through the side exit. When you reached the van outside, Mark opened the door for you then slammed shut behind him, hard enough to rattle the frame. Mark dropped into the seat across from you, still catching his breath. Silence stretched for a moment before he looked up, eyes sharp. “You okay?” You leaned forward. “Better now that my bodyguard’s here. Didn’t realize you were such a softie.” His lips quirking into a half-smile, he shot back. “Soft? You’re lucky I’m not charging you for overtime.” “Oh, I plan on making it a full time gig. Think you can handle that?” He chuckled low, eyes locked on yours. “Try me.”