The low hum of the overhead lights filled the otherwise empty briefing room as you sat at the table, illuminated by the glow of your laptop. The digital map on the screen flickered with red markers, each representing high-value targets Price had wanted intel on by morning.

The door creaked open, heavy boots thudding against the concrete floor. “Burnin’ the midnight oil, are we?” came the familiar gravelly voice.

Captain Price.

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your eyes on the screen. “Someone’s gotta do the paperwork, Captain.”

He chuckled softly as he strode closer, his presence commanding even in the quiet. “Funny. I was about to sit down and do the same.”

You didn’t miss the subtle shift in the air as he stopped just behind you. The scent of smoke and leather lingered, unmistakably his. His voice lowered. “What are you workin’ on there?”

“Mission debriefs.” you replied coolly, fingers tapping across the keys.

“Let me have a look.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, one hand bracing himself on the back of your chair, the other ghosting just past your shoulder. His face was close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath brush your temple.

Your breath caught.

“You’re missing a report here,” he murmured, voice low and rough, eyes scanning the screen. “Sloppy.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I wasn’t finished, Captain.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and charged. His hand remained where it was - steady, grounding - while his voice dipped even lower. “Funny how I keep finding you alone in places like this.”

You turned your head slightly, your faces dangerously close. “Funny how you keep showing up, Captain.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of something unspoken hanging in the air.

“Careful,” he warned softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “you might just make a habit of this.”