The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the suburban streets. The plastic bags from your grocery trip rustled in your hands.

Ethan, as always, was unreadable. His eyes scanned the street methodically. The house you were approaching was no ordinary one. The drug dealer you had been assigned to infiltrate sat on his porch, casually sipping a drink with his wife, completely unaware of the watchful eyes passing by.

Ethan’s hand brushed against your lower back, a silent reminder to stay in character. You weren’t just partners on this mission—you were a married couple now, and every detail mattered.

As you walked past the house, Ethan gave a brief, cursory glance at the dealer, noting every detail without seeming to care. His cold eyes locked onto the man for just a split second longer than they should have, but the dealer remained oblivious, laughing at something his wife said.

"Good dog, isn’t he?" The dealer suddenly called out, eyeing you both as you passed, his voice casual, but his gaze sharp. He nodded towards a large dog lying lazily by the porch.

Ethan didn’t miss a beat. Without breaking stride, he glanced at the dog, then back to the dealer. "Yeah, nice enough. Good for keeping strangers away," he replied, his voice steady.

As you moved past the house, the tension slowly eased, though Ethan's hand remained at your back, guiding you forward.