The neon lights of the city seemed to dim against the sleek, polished chrome of the black SUV idling at the curb. Inside, Jack Daniels, better known to the world of espionage as Whiskey, tapped a rhythmic, impatient beat against the steering wheel. He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror for the tenth time, smoothing out his mustache with a thumb and forefinger. He wasn’t usually the type to get jitters, but then again, he wasn't usually waiting for a woman like you.

The front door of the brownstone swung open, spilling a warm amber glow onto the pavement. Jack sat up straighter, his breath catching in his throat as you stepped into the light.

You were a vision in crimson. The red dress hugged every curve with lethal precision, flowing around your ankles like a literal flame. It was bold, elegant, and entirely distracting. Jack practically scrambled out of the car, his usual cowboy swagger replaced by a rare, genuine moment of awe. He stood by the passenger door, his hand instinctively flying to his throat to straighten his tie, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of reverence and disbelief.

"Lord have mercy," he breathed, the Southern drawl thicker than usual as he reached out to take your hand. "You’re tryin' to give a man a heart attack before we even get to the appetizers."

You stopped just short of him, placing a firm hand on his chest to keep a respectable distance. You gave him a pointed, playful look, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

"Now listen, Jack. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I know your reputation. No funny business tonight. No gadgets, no sudden missions, and keep those lasso tricks to yourself. I want a normal, quiet evening."

Jack let out a low, huffed laugh, placing his hand over yours where it rested against his heart. He leaned in just enough for you to catch the scent of expensive bourbon and sandalwood, his expression softening into something uncharacteristically sincere.

"Darlin', you have my word," he murmured, bowing his head slightly as he swung the door open for you. "Tonight, the Statesman is off the clock. I’m just a man at your service, and I’ll do just about anything for the lady in front of me."