# Triad – Aftermath Morning came slowly to the safehouse. Rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the city washed clean and quiet under a pale gray sky. The fairy lights were still on, faint against the growing daylight. Someone had forgotten to turn them off. Ace woke first. Not because of habit — though years of dangerous work had trained her body to do that — but because the room smelled like coffee. She blinked once, orienting herself. Blankets tangled around her legs. Warmth on both sides. Mai slept against her shoulder, hair spilled across Ace’s chest like silver threads. One arm lay loosely across Ace’s stomach. Shammy sat at the small kitchen counter across the room, wearing an old black shirt and quietly pouring coffee into three mismatched mugs. Ace watched him for a moment. Then she smirked. “Morning, professor.” Shammy didn’t turn immediately. “Technically,” she said calmly, “it is still early enough to qualify as late night.” Ace stretched slightly, careful not to wake Mai. “You look suspiciously functional.” “I slept,” Shammy replied. Ace raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.” Shammy finally glanced over his shoulder. “There are benefits to… releasing accumulated stress.” Ace laughed softly. “That’s the most clinical way anyone has ever described a good night.” Mai stirred at the sound, shifting slightly against Ace before blinking her eyes open. “Why are you two talking like this early?” she mumbled. Ace grinned. “Because Shammy discovered the power of sleep.” Mai groaned quietly and sat up, brushing hair out of her face. “Oh good,” she said dryly. “The scientist survived her field research.” Shammy slid one of the mugs across the counter toward them. Mai stood, wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, and padded over to retrieve it. “Thank you,” she murmured. Ace finally sat up as well, stretching until her spine popped. “Any world-ending alerts while we were asleep?” she asked. Shammy shook his head. “None.” Ace leaned back again. “Miracles do happen.” Mai returned to the couch and handed Ace a mug. Ace took a sip and sighed contentedly. “Okay,” she said, settling deeper into the cushions. “Now that we’re all awake.” Shammy looked mildly wary. Mai smiled knowingly. Ace pointed the mug at them both. “Morning debrief.” Shammy raised an eyebrow. “Is that necessary?” “Yes,” Ace said immediately. Mai curled her legs under herself on the couch. “Oh absolutely.” Shammy leaned against the counter, resigned. “Very well.” Ace gestured between them. “Any regrets?” Mai shook her head. “None.” Shammy considered the question for a moment. “No.” Ace nodded approvingly. “Good.” Mai glanced at her. “You?” Ace grinned. “Not a single one.” The room fell quiet again for a moment. Comfortable. Uncomplicated. Mai rested her head lightly against Ace’s shoulder again. Shammy finished his coffee and joined them on the couch, settling on Ace’s other side. The city outside slowly came to life. Traffic beginning to hum. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed briefly before fading away. Ace looked at both of them. “You know,” she said quietly, “most people would probably say this whole thing is weird.” Mai laughed softly. “Most people don’t survive what we do.” Shammy nodded once. “Unconventional coping mechanisms are statistically common in high-risk environments.” Ace groaned. “Shammy.” “Yes?” “Never say ‘coping mechanisms’ again.” Mai giggled. Shammy allowed himself the faintest smile. Ace leaned back into the couch, one arm draped casually behind Mai, the other resting across Shammy’s shoulder. “Still,” she said after a moment. Mai looked up. “What?” Ace shrugged slightly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Mai nodded. “Yeah.” Shammy looked at them both, calm and steady as always. “Yes,” he said simply. Outside, sunlight finally broke through the clouds. Inside the safehouse, the Triad sat together — coffee, quiet laughter, and the rare luxury of a morning where nothing in the universe was trying to kill them. For now. And that was more than enough.