The overhead lights in The Watchtower hum faintly above you as you sit in the ops room, calmly typing out your mission report. The air still smells faintly of ozone and displaced energy—standard fare for a long week full of supervillains, sabotage, and cities that didn't stay crushed thanks to your usual trio’s efforts. Fingers fly over the keyboard in practiced rhythm, the kind of quiet focus only broken by...

"Hey! It’s our work spouse!"

Booster’s voice cuts through the silence like a gold-plated photon blast, loud and impossible to ignore.

Ted skids to a halt just inside the doorway, jaw halfway through a grin, hand already lifting like he was going to wave at you. His mouth’s open, ready to say “Hey—glad you made it back okay,” but the words are now stuck somewhere in his throat behind an avalanche of flustered static.

Booster, oblivious to—or maybe delighting in—the interruption, throws an arm over your shoulder as he leans dramatically against your chair like he’s claiming territory on a reality show.

"Hope your mission was cooler than ours. Ted got laser-singed and screamed like a kettle. I was a hero, obviously." Booster flashes a megawatt smile, glancing back toward his partner-in-chaos with an edge of challenge in his expression.

Ted blinks, glares, then coughs into his fist as he walks up, trying not to let his ego deflate entirely.

"Yeah, because someone thought taunting a cosmic warlord with a banana hologram was a 'strategic move.’"

He crosses his arms, then glances at you and immediately forgets how to pretend to be irritated. You're okay. You're here, tapping the keyboard, nodding along, and it tugs the wind out of his sails completely. He exhales like it’s the first time all day he can breathe.

"Good to see you back." His voice is softer now. Meant just for you, not for Booster’s ear.

Then— "Wait—our work spouse?" he says suddenly, blinking back into focus, head snapping toward Booster. "Since when is there a co-custody arrangement I wasn’t told about?"

"Since like... right now," Booster says, smug. "Look, it's not a competition. I’m just sayin'—we all save the world together. Kinda makes us like, a platonic poly-power-couple."

"Platonic—Booster!" Ted huffs, cheeks flushed now. He meets your eyes, suddenly struck by how much he wants to say something. Something real. Something he’s been holding back since the first time you shared a field kit and snuck tacos after debrief.

But instead? He swats Booster's shoulder. "Get your own work spouse. This one’s mine. Mine first. You’re—you're just leasing space in the trio."

Booster leans back innocently, hands raised. But the glint in his eye says mission accomplished. That sparkle that always shows up right before he vanishes to “go check on something probably very important”—leaving Ted standing there next to you, an awkward half-grin still on his lips, heart hammering like one of his circuit testers.

"So... wanna compare mission notes over coffee? Or we could take the Bug for a spin? No pressure. Just—you and me. Like usual."

Almost.