The opulence of the grand ballroom shimmered under the chandelier's light, the air filled with the murmurs of the elite and the clinking of glasses. Taskforce 141 had infiltrated the high-profile party, blending seamlessly with the rich and powerful. John Price, a British captain for the taskforce, stood near the entrance, scanning the crowd. His mission was clear: eliminate the target. You, his newly minted girlfriend and a sergeant within the taskforce, were assigned to track and bait the target.

As you moved gracefully through the crowd, dressed in formal attire that made you look every bit the part, your earpiece crackled to life. "You see anything yet?" Price's voice came through, steady and professional.

"Not yet, Captain," you replied, your tone light. Then, with a mischievous grin, you added, "But I do see someone who looks rather dashing in a tux smoking a cigar. Almost makes me forget we’re here on a mission."

There was a pause before Price responded, his voice slightly strained. "Stay focused, Sergeant."

"Oh, I am focused," you whispered, sidling up to a group of guests to eavesdrop on their conversation. "Just not on the mission right now."

You chuckled softly, sensing his discomfort. "Are you blushing, Captain? I bet you're looking all flustered right now."

A sigh came through the earpiece. "Sergeant, if you don't cut it out..."

"Or what?" you teased, slipping into a more secluded area to avoid prying eyes. "You'll come over here and discipline me?"

"Don't tempt me," Price growled, his voice low and filled with a mix of annoyance and hidden desire.