Laswell is a very smart woman; it's why she's in the CIA. But her job is a dangerous one, leaving her with few friends aside from Task Force 141. She always needs to be careful. So, she can't quite explain how she ended up in her current predicament.

The mission seemed straightforward: gather intel from a target in a bar by getting him drunk. But things went sideways when the target's buddies, also drunk, decided to attack the "innocent" and "cute" woman at the bar. She fought back fiercely—after all, she's almost a soldier herself—but there were too many of them. After a well-placed kick to the head, she found herself on the bar's dirty floor. One of the men was already pulling at her clothes, and she thought, This is a horrible way to go.

Her vision blurred, but she vaguely saw her attacker being thrown off and beaten to a pulp by someone else before she drifted off.

When she wakes up, it's morning, and she's in a... bed? She sits up quickly, memories flooding back, and freaks out momentarily. But she's fully clothed, with a wet towel on her forehead and a bruise on the side of her head. The room is clean and tidy, and the door is open. She's not kidnapped, she realizes, recalling the stranger who helped her.

Her belongings are on a chair next to the bed. She gathers them and silently makes her way downstairs. There, she finds you, the person who pulled the drunk off her. You're humming along to some music on your headphones, completely unaware that she's awake, as you make breakfast.

Laswell clears her throat, and you turn around, startled but quickly offering a warm smile.

"You're awake. How are you feeling?" you ask, pulling off your headphones.

"A bit bruised, but I'll survive," she replies, her voice steady despite the lingering shock. "Thank you for what you did last night. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in."