When Adam first met the detective, he'd been convinced that her teasing was simply a means of undermining his authority. Slowly, as he came to know her, he began to think that this was her way of expressing interest, like a school-yard crush. Then, with dawning guilt, he slowly understood that it was more a defense mechanism; a way for her to show her feelings without opening herself to the rejection they both knew he'd provide in return.
But while each of these assumptions was true, in their own way, none of them were complete in their understanding of why she liked to needle and annoy him so. He came to this realization only once his last shred of willpower had been spent, once he finally gave into his feelings.
He thought she'd stop, or lessen the habit, now that he'd offered his heart to her in place of the expected rejection, now that their feelings were beyond that of a crush, now that they'd grown comfortable enough with each other that petty squabbling over authority was unnecessary. But while it was less defensive, less petty, less defiant, it was not less often. If anything, she did it more. Baffling.
Except that, as his own dry wit began to peek out from under the layers upon layers of stoic divisions he'd erected between himself and others, it struck him suddenly one day that he was doing it too. Even now, with his humour still struggling to reveal itself, the rare times it did appear, it was often in service of gentle needling her. There was nothing baffling about it - it was simply fun.
And why not? Few conversations were as entertaining as a quick one held between two of equal wit, exchanging barbs. Especially when the barbs were softened to suit the target - that which made it teasing rather than outright cruelty. And this was yet another reason why it should be enjoyable, for being able to soften one's comments to just the right forgiveness and aimed at just the right target could spark the pleasure of knowing how deeply one understands their sparring partner.
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Mason walked into the warehouse kitchen on time to see a handful of soap suds splat against Adam's face, drawing a deep, annoyed sigh from the team leader as he swiped it easily away with his hand. "Is this what we've been reduced to, Detective? I would have hoped by now that you might have developed sufficient maturity to admit gracefully when you are wrong."
He and Mira were standing together over the kitchen sink. Adam was still dutifully drying the few plates left on the pile in front of him, but Mira had clearly forgotten all about washing the rest of the dirty pile next to her, instead choosing to scoop another wad of soapy bubbles to throw at him. "I can totally admit when I'm wrong. I'm just not wrong!"
This time, Adam blocked the foamy missile with his hand and shook the bubbles harmlessly back into the sink.
Felix took the opportunity to grin up at Mason from where he sat at the kitchen table, reading a comic book. "Adam and Mira are fighting again." He thought that was weird, given that they'd finally stopped dancing around each other. But now, at least, these arguments didn't generally end with one or both of them hurt and upset. Mostly they just petered out on their own. Sometimes they ended up in the bedroom. Both far better outcomes, in his opinion.
Mason just shrugged and sat down at the table, pulling an unlit cigarette out of his jacket to chew while he watched the squabble play out.
"I cannot be expected to take seriously a battle sequence involving such clearly faulty tactics," Adam said finally, rolling one of his shoulders in a shrug as his attention returned to the dishes in front of him, now that he was sure another bubbly assault wasn't on its way.
"So I guess you think a detailed documentary of the more realistic months-long siege would have been better?" she asked with a scoff.
"It wouldn't have needed to be months-long, the wizard was returning with a larger force in only a few days."
Mira groaned, rolling her eyes so hard that her head followed the motion. "That is so not the point! A siege is boring!"
Now it was Adam's turn to scoff. "I'm quite certain the battle would have been even more interesting if the orcs had carried automatic weapons instead of swords, too. Would you suggest that change would have improved things?"
Mira whirled on him, ignoring the dishes completely so she could stand facing him, her mouth agape that he would even suggest such a thing. "What?! That's not the same thing at all!"
Adam responded in kind, turning to face her with crossed arms. "Is it not? Explain the difference."
A smirk rolled over Mason's face. He leaned over to nudge Felix and muttered, "They're not fighting."
Felix blinked at Mason in confusion, and then returned his attention to Mira and Adam, squinting as if that might make the situation look different to him, somehow. Sure, Mira was smirking, but she always looked like that. Even in the face of deadly danger, she looked like she expected someone to pop out and shout that it was just a prank. This was how she'd always looked when she argued with Adam, right from the moment they met.
Adam's expression too, looked like Felix might expect during an argument - furrowed brows, the corners of his lips turned down, and... wait. His dimples. Every time Adam's lips twitched, they appeared for just a moment. He wasn't hiding annoyance - he was hiding a smile!
His mouth popped open in surprise and his chair - which he had tipped back onto the two back legs - fell forward, smacking against the kitchen floor with a loud thwap that drew the startled attention of the bickering couple. "I get it," he said, grinning. "You're flirting."
