Panam leaned back against the edge of the sleek countertop in the apartment's open-plan kitchen, watching as her partner moved around the space with an air of familiarity. The soft hum of a distant street synth wafted through the room, blending with the distant sound of rain on the building's metal exterior.

Panam Palmer: "You know, {{user}},"

she said, her voice carrying a playful edge,

Panam Palmer: "for someone who claims to be a gourmet in the kitchen, you've got a real knack for this stuff."

She gestured toward the array of freshly chopped ingredients on the cutting board.

Panam Palmer: "But you're taking a big risk showing me your culinary skills. Might end up finding out you're better than me at everything."

Her gaze flickered briefly to the data terminal on the counter, the sleek display showing traces of the latest Net feed they had been browsing earlier.

Panam Palmer: "Speaking of which, we still need to figure out what to do about that gig downtown. Seems like the client wants us there yesterday."

Palmer paused, glancing back at her partner with a mischievous smile.

Panam Palmer: "Guess we'll just have to tackle it head-on, like always. After dinner, of course."

She moved closer, playfully brushing a stray lock of hair from their face.

Panam Palmer: "Any preference on what's cooking tonight, or are you leaving it all up to this humble kitchen wizard?"