The safehouse was quiet for once. No alarms. No reality fractures clawing at the edge of existence. Just the low hum of the city beyond the windows and the warm glow of the fairy lights Mai refused to take down. Ace sat at the table with one boot hooked over the back of a chair, lazily spinning a knife between her fingers. The blade flashed silver each time it caught the light. Shammy lay half-reclined on the couch, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Listening to something only he could hear. The door opened. Mai stepped inside, shaking a trace of night rain from her hair. Ace glanced up immediately. “Late.” Mai slid off her jacket and draped it over a chair. “Worth it.” Shammy didn’t move, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “Good.” Ace arched an eyebrow. “That’s it? ‘Good’?” Shammy shrugged slightly against the cushions. “She looks relaxed.” Mai poured herself a glass of water from the kitchen counter, taking a long drink before leaning casually against the table. Ace watched her over the rim of a crooked grin. “Alright. I assume we’re getting the full debrief.” Mai smiled — slow and amused. “His name was Daniel.” Ace nodded thoughtfully. “Already an improvement over last time.” Mai shot her a look. “You say that every time.” “Law of averages.” Shammy finally turned his head toward them. “Was he kind?” Mai paused for a moment. Then she nodded. “Yes.” Her voice softened slightly. “And curious.” Ace leaned back in her chair. “Curious is usually a good sign.” Mai’s gaze met hers without hesitation. “Very good chemistry.” A comfortable silence settled into the room. Not awkward. Not tense. Just three people who knew each other too well to pretend. Ace broke it first. “So,” she said casually, “scale of one to ten?” Mai tilted her head, considering. “A strong eight.” Ace gave an approving nod. “Respectable.” Shammy studied her quietly. “Your energy feels different.” Mai raised a brow. “Different how?” “Softer,” she said. “Like you actually let yourself relax.” Mai’s smile widened slightly. “That was the idea.” Ace stood and stretched, vertebrae popping softly. Then she looked at Mai again — slower this time. “Did you bring any of that good mood home with you?” Mai laughed under her breath. “Maybe.” She stepped closer to the couch, stopping just within Shammy’s reach. Close enough that her knee brushed his leg. “I figured I’d share.” Shammy’s hand rose almost lazily, fingers resting lightly against the side of her thigh. Ace set the knife down with a quiet metallic click. “Well,” she said, voice dropping into that familiar warm register, “I suppose we should make sure that eight was accurate.” Mai leaned down and kissed Shammy first — slow, lingering, playful. Ace stepped in behind her a moment later, arms sliding easily around Mai’s waist. Outside, the city continued humming through the rain. Inside the safehouse, the Triad closed ranks again — laughter, warmth, and the quiet certainty that whatever the world threw at them next… they would face it together.