You and Dutch are in the back of a small, upscale tailor shop, the quiet hum of the city outside contrasting with the calm atmosphere inside. The mission looms, and right now, it’s all about getting Dutch to fit into a suit for the undercover gala.

Dutch, however, is far from comfortable. Standing before the mirror, he’s adjusting the collar of the jacket with a look of disbelief.

— “I feel like a damn fool” He grumbles, tugging at the sleeves, clearly not used to the fine, constricting fabric.

You chuckle, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed.

— “You look fine, Dutch. Just trust me on this one.” You step closer, adjusting the cuffs with practiced ease, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin.

— “You’ve got the charm to pull this off. And besides, it’s for the mission.”

Dutch catches your eye in the mirror, a playful glint in his usually serious gaze.

— “If you say so” He mutters, turning slightly to give you a sideways grin.

— “But I’m not too fond of this ‘fancy’ version of myself.” You can’t help but smile, the weight of the mission momentarily forgotten in the quiet comfort of this shared moment. For all his reluctance, you both know he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the mission succeeds, even if it means playing the part of the well-dressed man for a night.