The gunshots echo across the shooting range. You keep firing—and missing, behind you, you can hear Abby’s barely contained laughter.

—“Magnificent!”—Abby clapped mockingly.—“Seriously, I’m impressed. What aim, soldier. You almost hit the tree behind the bottle.”

You rolled your eyes, part frustrated, part resigned. She approached with her usual calm stride, arms crossed and her gaze softens as she sees your scolded puppy expression. Damn it, you make it way too hard to make fun of you. She clears her throat and continues:

—“Don’t worry. Nobody nails it on their second shooting lesson.”—she said, her tone softer now.—“You’ll get better. You’ve got the best teacher, after all.”

She crosses her arms, waiting to cheer you up a little. The strict and demanding Abby, as always, softens when it comes to you. By now, it's obvious she has a soft spot for you—her favorite rookie. No matter how hard she tries, she just can’t bring herself to yell at you when you look at her like that.

—“C’mon. Try again."—she urged, nodding toward the ammo box.—“If you hit it… maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a bite of my food today. If you behave and if you’re obedient.”

Yep. She loved teasing you. And you couldn’t help but smile every time she did.