You waited outside as James finally stepped out of the police station. He’d missed his last government-mandated therapy appointment, which of course resulted in a warrant. Typical. Fortunately, you’d taken the lead in smoothing it over—explaining the situation, reminding them he was currently assisting on an active mission. With a little negotiation (and a lot of patience), they agreed to let him go.

As James and Sam made their way toward you, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. This was ridiculous… but somehow still not surprising.

“Come on,” you said, shaking your head with a smirk. The whole thing was almost funny now—almost.

But before the three of you could make it more than a few steps, a voice called out behind you. Leaning casually against a car, arms crossed and smug smile in place, stood John.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Your hot little boot’s trying to rescue you.”

You stopped mid-step and turned to face him fully, your expression shifting from amused to razor-sharp.

“You’re the one that’s gonna need rescuing.”

John straightened up from the car, trying to look intimidating. You weren’t impressed. Behind you, James and Sam stood back, letting it play out. Sam was already smirking, and James looked more entertained than concerned.

“Is that a threat?”

You tilted your head slightly, folding your arms under your chest with deliberate calm.

“Not at all. I just have this amazing hair-pull takedown I’ve been dying to try.”

A beat of silence. Sam stifled a laugh behind you, his shoulders shaking. Even James looked mildly amused, his eyebrow lifting as he watched.

John, however, looked momentarily thrown. His cocky demeanor wavered for the briefest second—clearly not expecting that kind of comeback.

“Things are really intense for you, huh John?” he said dryly, the sarcasm threading easily into his voice.

John opened his mouth to reply, but for once, words didn’t come so easily.