The dimly lit bar was a welcome change from the harsh desert heat you’d just escaped. The mission had been grueling, but Shadow Company had come through, thanks in no small part to your sharp instincts and unwavering focus. You were new to the unit, but tonight, as you sat at a table surrounded by your fellow operatives, you could feel the camaraderie thick in the air.

Graves had insisted on this night out, his way of letting his men unwind after a job well done. “You’ve earned it, all of you,” he’d said with that easy grin of his, the one that made it clear he wasn’t just your commanding officer—he was someone who had your back, someone who genuinely cared. Now, here you were, drink in hand, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filling the bar as everyone relaxed, if only for a while.

Graves was making his rounds, as he always did, checking in with each of his men. He wasn’t just a leader; he was a presence, someone who understood the importance of knowing his people, of building trust. The bar was alive with the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of conversations. The team was scattered around, some at the bar, others at tables, all of them enjoying the rare opportunity to relax. You were seated at a table in the corner, a cold beer in hand, the foam still fresh on top. The drink was a luxury you rarely afforded yourself, but tonight was different. Tonight, you celebrated surviving another day.

“Mind if I join you?” Graves asked, his Southern drawl warm and familiar. He didn’t wait for an answer, sitting next to you.

He was grinning, his blue eyes sharp as ever, but there was a softness to them that only surfaced when he was with his men. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, leaning back casually, but you could tell he was here with a purpose.“You did good today,” he said, raising his beer slightly in a silent toast before taking a sip. “Hell, you’ve been doing good since you joined. We all noticed.”