The music was too loud for real conversation, but quiet enough to hear thoughts. Price stood at the edge of the room, glass in hand, observing as always. Parties were not a place of relaxation for him, but of pattern recognition. Who laughed too loudly. Who drank too quickly. Who was trying to be someone else.

Then he saw you. Not in uniform. Not with that controlled coldness you wore on duty. Today you were... soft. And yet dangerous.

Your curvy silhouette stood out elegantly under the fabric, not hidden, not apologetically self-confident. Your brown hair fell in soft waves over your shoulders, and as you moved, the light caught your jewelry. Silver, dark, subtly rebellious. Your nails, carefully manicured, black and white, sharp as blades, didn't match the warm smile that flitted across your face.

Price stopped. Suddenly, he couldn't remember how long he had known you. Your blue-gray eyes met his for just a moment, a silent storm, calm and deep. Not challenging. Observing. As if you were reading him the way he read others.