"Mason?"

It's the first time Mason heard Scott speak after confirming he made it safely to the location. It was a relief to hear the agent's (and close friend) voice and not rely solely on Scott's heat signature from a satellite image to tell if he's okay. "Yeah, man, I'm here. You doing alright?"

"No. I've got a… situation." Scott answered ominously in a strained voice. Not a good thing to hear when Mason is working with limited eyes on Scott.

Mason's heart raced at the possibilities. "What it is? Did you blow your cover? Are there enemies inbound?" A silent alarm could have been triggered or possibly Mason can't see anyone in Scott's radius because his system is glitching. He knew he should've checked the last system update a third time before Scott went into the field.

A long, shaky exhale emitted into Mason's receiver. "It's my mom, she keeps calling me. I can't ignore her again or she will find a way to track me down and kill me for worrying her. But I hate lying my ass off to her."

"Hey, leave your ass to me. Leave the lying to me, I mean - I meant to say." Mason muted his mic on the off chance Scott's super hearing can hear his lips move and mouthed 'what the fuck' after his slip up. "This is what I'm here for, I've got your back. Leave Mama to Papa." He muted again to smack his forehead with his keyboard, careful not to hit his glasses, before transferring Scott's mom to his line. Even miles away, Mason was still shaken up by his crush on Scott.

When Mason was first introduced to Scott's mom it had gone much different in reality than he hoped in his head. During those dead moments of his job, when Mason stared into space waiting for a wiretap to yield an incriminating conversation after hours of hearing snore-inducing conversations about the weather, sports, and latest late-night conquests (most of which were greatly exaggerated), Mason imagined he and Scott hand in hand at the front door of Scott's childhood home, being introduced to Scott's mom as his boyfriend. Instead of that fantasy playing out, Mason posed as Scott's assistant at a vet clinic - only meeting Scott's mom through phone calls, and a staged video chat in a fake clinic.

The fact that Scott's chosen fantasy career was a vet because he loved animals didn't help the crush brewing for Mason's partner in the least bit.

"No, you are the best! I'm just aiming for second place." Mason parted to Scott's mom.

By the time Mason was done with Mrs. McCall - Melissa, she told him to call her - Mason felt like he won the gold at the Olympics. Melissa happily chatted Mason up after he relieved her worry over her son. Being close friends with the sheriff had made Melissa need voice confirmation rather than a simple text to soothe her fears over Scott. After all, anyone can pretend to be Scott over a text. Ironic, since Mason is pretending Scott is safe and sound delivering a litter of puppies.

And Mason was enough for her to put her mind at rest. Which means he obviously won her over and that felt like a step closer to Melissa poking at Scott's side asking him why he hasn't snatched up a great guy like Mason yet the next time Scott goes home to visit. And then Scott will wonder the same and then in no time the two men are honeymooning in Hawaii basking in the warm rays with drinks in hand toasting to their long happy lives together.

Before Mason's mind can decide how many kids they have and their names - twin boys, Miles and Pascal - oops his mind ran faster than he could catch. He checked back in with Scott to relieve the worried agent.

"Aaand you are good, Scott, my man." I wish you were my man. "Like I said, this is what I am here for. I live to fulfill your every need. Y'know, that is the needs pertaining to the mission." Why does Mason have to talk at all? Why can't he communicate via text? Then he could read and edit what he planned to say to Scott before making an ass of himself.

Mason expected to hear a sigh of relief from his update but heard nothing at all.

"Scott?" Mason prodded when there wasn't a response on the other side of the comms. Even if Scott needed radio silence there was a way to signal that he was unable to talk. But Mason wasn't receiving the signal. He looked at the surveillance satellite to get a visual on Scott and saw a wide spread of heat on the screen that wasn't there before.

Was it a fire? Or a large group of people clustered together? Mason has no idea but every guess and the continued silence does nothing to calm his fear.

Not too long Mason was yelling Scott's name into the headset, other agents on the floor crowded his cubicle at the distress in his voice. All their murmuring was lost on Mason's ears intently listening out for the slightest sound from Scott's end. He talked into the silence on the off chance Scott could hear. Moments pass and there's still nothing. Mason didn't leave his post until his former trainer, Stiles, came by to relieve him. The other agents watched in horror Stiles leading Mason to an isolated area as tears streamed down Mason's face.

Mason could only wonder how things went so wrong after taking his eyes away from Scott for a minute or two, blaming himself for failing Scott.

Mason walked past the marble wall engraved with stars, each star commemorating an agent fallen in the line of duty. His vision clouded from welling tears. It had been a couple of weeks since Scott's incident and Mason still felt a heavy weight on his heart. Coming to work was hard but Mason would rather be there keeping busy and doing what he can to prevent another agent from sharing Scott's fate.

Mason was supposed to be assigned to another field agent to oversee their operation. But due to the circumstances of their close relationship, Mason's boss, Deaton, allowed him to work in the tech development workshop until he was ready.

He touched the cold marble wall that served as a harsh reminder of the price many had to pay to protect the world. Wiping away tears that threatened to spill at any second, Mason left to make sure Scott's sacrifice wasn't in vain.

Mason entered Deaton's workshop to find Stiles waiting for him with Liam and… Scott. Liam and Stiles were on break goofing around with the visiting agent.

Scott waved at Mason's presence with his usual soft welcoming smile that felt reserved especially for Mason only. Mason returned the smile, happy to see Scott standing upright without crunches. The werewolf was making a full speedy recovery. Stiles and Liam were hanging on Scott's words, too enraptured to greet Mason.

"Don't leave me hanging! What happened next?" Liam urged Scott to continue, who was momentarily distracted by Mason's appearance.

"Oh right… So, there I was - cut off from Mason after the explosion - I could hear him but he couldn't hear me. Remember, Mason?"

He jerked his head as a nod. How could Mason ever forget that moment?

"And the fire blocked the exit and the whole building was burning fast like it was made of paper. I knew I had to get out fast. I head to the roof. Mason keeps talking even though he doesn't know I can hear him and says that an emergency evac is near and where to go. But I knew I'd be dead before I got there. So…"

Stiles whacked Liam's arm. "Wait till you hear this." Stiles and Liam were a match of excited looks, while Mason had to turn to his workstation to feign cleaning his glasses, keeping Scott from seeing his grief-stricken expression.

"I dive off the roof into a pool, maybe ten stories down, to escape the fire. Broke both legs because the water wasn't deep enough, and then I had to stay under for a good while until the flames died down and until I knew the coast was clear to come up for air without getting shot again."

"All of this with a wolfsbane bullet in his shoulder and the poison creeping to his heart." Stiles added with more enthusiasm than he should given that Scott could've died. "Didn't I tell you? My guy here puts James Bond to shame. All seven of 'em."

Although it sounded like the most over the top action movie, those were the actual events that landed Scott on temporary medical leave. And Scott, being the model agent he is, came in nearly every day for physical therapy. Being a werewolf granted faster healing abilities but the extent of his injuries and the wolfsbane poison required Scott to come in regularly to make sure his bones were healing correctly and there was no trace of poison left in his body.

"Wait if both your legs were broken how'd you make it to the LZ?" Liam asked.

"Do the thing, Scotty." Stiles folded his arms, grinning at what was to come.

That's when Mason turned his eyes back to the group to see Scott show off how he made it out the pool to safety. It was the only bright side about Scott repeating his daring tale of escape around the office. Scott performed a handstand and walked a circle around Liam and Stiles, then around the workshop as an added bonus.

Unlike Liam and Stiles cheering on Scott's physical feat, Mason had another reason for this being his favorite part of the story. Scott's shirt pooled down his chest showcasing his lickable, toned abs clenching at its core to keep the werewolf upright.

It's a sight of beauty that never failed to leave Mason breathless. This time, however, Mason was going breathless for another reason. Seeing Scott in picture perfect health meant the agent was ready to go back into action and it filled Mason with dread. But Mason did his best to keep the panic at bay that threatened to creep to the surface every time Mason thought of the possible outcomes that can happen with Scott back in the field.

Scott got lucky. He could've been captured, tortured, or killed. Or all three!

But Scott was safe here. As much as Mason watched over Scott in the field, out there he was on his own for the most while Mason sat useless at his desk.

Deaton entered the workshop and Liam and Stiles scurried away to their posts not wanting to be seen slacking around on the clock.

"Ah, perfect. Scott, you're here with Mason. I can kill two birds with one stone. The both of you are going to be partnered together again. I'm officially clearing you to report back to duty, Scott. Immediately. You will be hitting the ground running, so to speak." Deaton informed.

Mason awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, uh, I think crawling is a better - a much better - option."

"Nonsense. Scott has always been our most capable agent."

Scott practically bounced on the balls of his feet at Deaton's praise, a man who Scott had always admired a great deal.

"We have intel on the manufacture of the wolfsbane bullet that led to your leave of absence. We need to shut them down and find out how they found about our lycan program to produce a weapon like this."

Deaton left them alone with orders to reconvene later for a full mission briefing.

"Looks like the team is back together, huh Mason." Scott draped his arm around Mason's shoulder, smiling down at his partner. Under normal circumstances, Mason would've melted at the contact - Scott's warmer than average body heat pressed close to Mason's side. But Mason was still reeling from the thought of losing him. And apparently it showed because Scott's smile downturned.

"Um, maybe you're right about me 'crawling' back in the field - taking it easy. I know Deaton believes I'm ready but, uh…" Scott scratched the back of his head, looking vulnerable at Mason. "How about you? Do you believe I'm making a mistake, that I'm not ready?"

Right there was the in Mason was needed to keep Scott out of the field. But looking at Scott's unguarded face seeking reassurance from his friend and partner, Mason couldn't be selfish and cause Scott to question himself. "I do. I know you're ready."

Mason may not be ready, but he knew Scott was.

Scott thanked him verbally and by wrapping himself around Mason in a hug, all firm muscles that squeezed him perfect and warm werewolf body heat that seeped through Mason to the bone. Scott gave amazing hugs that left Mason feeling like he had a full day at the spa.

"Looks like I won't be bothering you anymore. At least, not in person." Scott playfully poked Mason between the ribs. "It's a good thing too. Now that we're back together, you don't have to worry about being assigned to someone like Jackson. Danny says he never turns his comms off during seductions." Just one in the broad spectrum of Jackson's many other faults.

Mason shivered at the thought of being privy to Jackson's seduction tactics. Not because of anything explicit but because the guy thought he was God's gift to mankind which made him flirt like an entitled jackass. "I'm not the only one benefiting by getting back to work. I hate to be the one to break it to you but these past weeks," Mason sucked in a breath, "you've been hitting the snacks pretty hard with Stiles without much to keep you busy."

"You may be right, at this point I'll probably have to let out my spy suit." Scott played along and clapped his stomach as evidence. However, the rock hard slap of his defined abs just ended up making them laugh out loud.

There they were laughing like there was nothing to worry over - Mason vowed at that moment that he'd do anything and everything in his power to make sure Scott came back safe.

Several minutes passed into Scott's mission and already he heard the sound of footsteps closing in on him. A memory from his previous mission surfaced. And Scott doesn't plan on reliving that pain in the present. He unholstered his stun gun and aimed toward the sound. Out of the shadows came a figure. His nose caught a familiar scent before he could pull the trigger and he lowered his weapon.

Of all the possible scenarios that could've happened on his mission, Scott was immensely caught off guard to find Mason the one emerging from the shadows.

Scott scrunched his face in confusion. "What're you doing here?"

"I am here to help. You said we're a team, right."

"You can help by getting yourself somewhere safe!" Scott's eyes bugged out a little. His ears more than his eyes were alerted to danger. "Too late! Duck!"

The two crotch down low to hide behind a crate from a guard making his patrol around the warehouse.

This close to Mason, Scott noticed a difference in his partner. Other than not being behind a monitor and in his ear where he belongs. "Mason, where are your glasses?"

"I'm wearing the scan-retina lens. It's a bit much to handle at first but I think I have a handle on it." It was a new tech made to give the wearer a longer range of sight, body heat vision, and night vision - just like a werewolf.

"I'm over here." Scott told Mason who was addressing to a stack of wood panels.

"Oh… I thought it was weird that your body temperature was, like… nonexistent." The lenses were also still in the developmental stage. What better way to test them out than in the field…

Scott did not share the same sentiment. His stare bore a hole through Mason. But oddly enough Scott didn't look mad per say, more like… transfixed.

"Scott?"

Scott shook his head. "Sorry. Are those contacts making your eyes brighter? Like, colored contacts or something?"

"They're clear."

"Oh...uh. Guess they look different without the glasses." Scott visibly gulped like he was parched and pried his eyes away from Mason's to lead the way. That is until Mason bumped into a forklift.

Luckily no one was close enough the hear clang of Mason's foot to the metal of the forklift.

The werewolf groaned as he took his partner by the hand to ensure they can safely navigate their way away unseen and unheard. "I can't believe you actually thought this a good plan. We're having a long talk about this at home. At HQ."

Holding Scott's hand… A moment Mason had dreamed of happening but not like this with Scott scolding him.

"Did Deaton approve this or something?" Scott asked trying to understand the situation.

"Not exactly, no. I, uh may have gone rogue and followed you here on my own."

It was like the situation was getting worse with every word that came out of Mason's mouth. "Then who's providing support?"

"Um… you remember who trained me, right?"

"Stiles?! You're behind this too?!" Scott spoke into the comms now that he knew who was on the other side.

"Not exactly… The clever runt left a timed message. By the time I got it, he was already in the field to your position." Yeah, this situation was definitely getting worse with every piece of information. "Don't worry, dude. As dumb of a move this was on Mason's part, he is the smartest agent I've trained. Contrary to his boneheaded decision."

"He did teach me everything I know. If anyone can cover our backs, I would think it's your best friend. And I can remotely access most of the important programs from here. You know, as long as there's no… interference ." Mason whispered as if lowering his voice will lessen the chances of it happening.

"And also if the occasion calls for a lighter mood, I can entertain you with a riddle. How about this - when is a door not a door?" Stiles said over comms.

"Stiles please! Just stick to surveillance and make sure we don't die! And make sure Deaton or Finstock or anybody else doesn't find out or it won't if make back alive because they will kill us!" Scott whisper-yelled.

Werewolves do not get headaches but Scott wondered if Mason was setting out to disprove that fact because he started to feel the beginnings of one.

Scott scrubbed a hand over his face, deliberating what to do next. "Okay, okay. We can still do this. All we need to do is find out the supplier from the terminal upstairs without triggering any alarms. Then we're out of here. Simple and clean."

Sneaking by the dozens of armed guards proved to be as easy as Scott made it out to be. Thanks to Scott's super senses and, like he promised, Mason managed to do his share that he usually did behind a desk. Only now his was privy to witnessing Scott without squinting at images from grainy security cams and guessing what was going on from thermal readings from a satellite. It was… intense.

Mason often tried to imagine what Scott out in the field was like. Unlike other field agents like Braeden, Jackson, Derek, or Lydia - Scott didn't get the glamorous infiltration assignments. They had ballrooms, galas, and sipping teas with high society. Scott's form of infiltration was slumming in sewers, sleuthing around dusty warehouses, and hours couped up in surveillance vans.

It sounded boring, and unsanitary, but Scott's acrobatics made it look downright daring and… sexy. Mason knew the suit Deaton designed for Scott was made to hug the body perfectly for tight squeezes. But he never knew though just how well it stayed with the body when Scott is contorting into backflips, climbing walls, and slipping into cracks. Mason was so glad though that he was never around to see Scott test out the suit back at HQ because Scott's lean but muscular build and bubble butt would've seen Mason into a drooling mess and blown his covert crush.

Delving into past the crates and shelves of ammo, specialized stun batons, wolfsbane bullets, and military grade arrowheads was a private office that housed information to lead them to the weapons manufacturer. It was clear whoever is behind this knew the weakness of werewolves.

It pushed Mason all the more to hack into the office's terminal as fast as he could.

Mason's swift work made escape was their next and final objective after duplicating a copy of the terminal's hard drive.

Scott stayed in place and grabbed Mason to stop his hurry out of the warehouse before trouble found them. "Stiles, are we clear to leave?"

"Yep. No one's around your area."

Mason tried to leave again but Scott kept him in position. "What about us? Can you see us?"

"Can I see you? What kind of question is that - of course I - Oh…" Stiles confirmed Scott's guess.

"I think this is what happened last time. This was why you couldn't warn before."

"OhcrapOhcrapOhcrap" Mason repeated like a broken record. This was why he didn't want to say 'interference' out loud. He jinxed them.

Scott held Mason's shoulders. It wasn't one of Scott's hugs, but it felt good. He felt more grounded at the contact. "Mason, it's okay. We'll get through this. You trust me, right?"

Mason nodded. Of course he does. With his life.

Scott nodded back and pressed his forehead to Mason's for a brief moment. "We need to move fast, I can hear them on their way. Are you with me?"

After Mason quickly answered yes, Scott made quick work assessing the room and then moved with purpose. "This is why it was crazy of you to come here like it was a simple trip to the mall." Scott grunted out as he lifted crates and cabinets, whatever was heavy and unnailed to the floor, into a strange arrangement. It confused Mason that Scott wasn't blocking the door.

"I know, I know. But I-" Mason cut himself off.

Unfortunately, Scott wasn't going to let him stop mid-sentence even with a large desk in hand that a normal person would only be able to drag across the room. "But what?"

"But I -" Mason knew Scott wouldn't let it go. And being anything but honest to a werewolf trained to be a living lie detector was useless. Here goes… "I have to make sure you're okay. You are my partner, Scott. Even that doesn't describe how much you mean to me, man. I can't imagine what I'd do if anything happened. Actually you know what, I can imagine and I have been… a lot. And losing those awesome hugs and that adorable smile from my life? I can't have that."

Scott stared at Mason, his expertly trained senses still alerting him to any coming threats.

Mason couldn't help squirm under the scrutiny of Scott's gaze. He didn't say exactly how he felt about Scott but didn't mean he may have revealed a little too much. Mason looked everywhere but Scott. His eyes flitting nervously around the room, it's more apparent what Scott's setup was with everything he piled up. It's a sort of funnel to lead the incoming threats from the door to them, that way they can't spread out in the room. Smart. Controlling the situation was their best bet with the type of weapons they discovered in the warehouse.

"Aw, dude, that's so sweet." Stiles interrupted the tense silence. "It's really true Scott, you do have an adorable smile and give the best hugs."

Mason groaned. "Stiles, can you just… I dunno, switch off and run a diagnostic test or something. A few minutes of privacy please." If Mason was going to continue laying his heart out in the open he'd rather it not be with an audience. And of course he'd rather not do it with a bunch of armed people wanting to kill him but he couldn't control that.

"Sorry. I'll you guys have a getaway waiting for you. Stiles out."

A pair of incoming footsteps about to force into the door registered to Scott's senses. Scott effortlessly fired two stun shots over their cover sending the hostiles to the ground with a thud as soon as they came barging in the door. The whole time he tried to think of a way to comfort Mason. But they both knew the risks that came with the job. Scott thought Mason understood it was a price he was willing to pay to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, to protect the world.

Scott leaped on top of the next person checking on their friends, he constrained their arms behind their back before they were even aware of Scott's presence. The person squirmed repeatedly out of Scott's grasp, failing every time. Once they finally realized it's of no use, they lashed out verbally against their captor.

Unfazed by the verbal assault, Mason talked over him to Scott needing to get more off his chest. "I saw you struggling during those therapy sessions... I don't ever want to see that again." Mason paused because this guy will not stop his pathetic attempts at threats. "Oh my God! I'm trying to talk, sir!" Mason took Scott's stun gun from his holster and shot him to shut him up. Scott released his hold and leaving the person to begin drooling on the ground. "Some people are so rude."

"Everyone struggles on crutches, even werewolves." Scott joked. But he knew it didn't help his partner. "Mason, I can't make any promises but I will always do my best to make it back home."

"That's not good enough."

"But it has to be."

"I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"Hi, sorry to interrupt again guys, but you've got another group closing in."

Mason gave Scott a smoke grenade from his belt and the werewolf chucked it through the open doorway toward the cluster of henchmen marching forth to their position. Over the hissing noise of the grenade deploying, Scott waited for Mason to switch his lenses to smoke filter. The lenses were really starting to perform well with Mason's input.

"C'mon, let's finish this up." Scott led the charge.

The two agents subdued each disoriented henchmen with swift, hard blows. Scott, with his fists and high flying kicks. And Mason… actually Mason stood out of the way. Scott flowed from each henchman so well it felt almost disrespectful to get in his way.

Funny how Mason didn't think crashing Scott's mission was disrespectful in the same way.

"I think you can put the pipe away." Scott smirked, watching Mason squeezing the life out of his found weapon. Mason whipped his eyes around looking for anyone left standing in the wake of Scott's storm of highly acrobatic beatdown (a lot of which was slightly unnecessary but quite spectacular looking).

Mason let his guard down along with the tenseness of his shoulders. "Please stop smiling, this isn't funny."

"I'm sorry but you - this is so cute. Oh, one sec." Scott said when Stiles informed them of one more group waiting outside in the stairwell. "Can I borrow your trapster? Thanks." Scott crushed a guy on the other side under the weight of the door when he busted it off its hinges with a winding punch. He then wall ran in the small space to dodge incoming fire. With the bad guys clustered, Scott seized the opportunity to unleash a well-placed toss of the disc-like device and immobilized them in a net web that constricts them the more they fight against it.

Scott returned to back up the stairs to Mason with a carefree ease like he just came back from taking the trash can to the curb.

"I think we're done here."

Mason knew Scott meant the mission because he was sure Scott was aware that there was no easy solution to Mason's fear over the werewolf's safety.

Back at the office after their successful mission - despite a few hiccups - Scott checked in on Mason, sitting in the empty workshop after his partner received a train of verbal ramming by Assistant Director Finstock. He didn't find Mason abandoning his station and compromising an agent on a mission as hiccups .

Scott walked heavy enough to let Mason aware of his presence. Stiles had often told Scott his ninja silent walking took a year off his life each time he unintentionally (and sometimes intentionally) crept behind him. Mason stopped scrubbing his eyes with the palms of hand and put his glasses back on at Scott's presence.

"If you're looking to tear me a new one, Finstock beat you to the punch."

Scott just leaned there against a table opposite of Mason, looking at the wall with arms crossed and devoid of any expression Mason can read. And Mason could always read Scott, whether it's his voice in the field or when they're face to face hanging around at HQ.

It made Mason fearful at the very possible fact that Scott was still upset with him and that's a thousand times more damaging than the colorful threats, that sounded from the script of a grindhouse horror flick, Finstock had in store for Mason if ever pulled a stunt like that again.

Mason spoke since Scott seemed too mad or upset to speak. "I wouldn't blame you if you did want to pile on. I wouldn't even blame you if wanted a new partner." Mason voiced his worst fear. He couldn't help but think Scott was so unreadable because he wanted to call quits on their partnership… maybe even their friendship.

Maybe Scott should really be a vet instead of pretending for his cover. If he's here to deliver the bad news Mason expected, then he's doing a top notch job. Professional, detached, calm and collected.

"I think between Finstock and that head of yours blaming yourself, you don't need anyone else adding to it." Scott finally spoke.

Mason hadn't known reading each other was a two-way street.

Scott continued. "Can I ask something - were you planning on tagging along on all my missions to make sure I was safe?"

"I, uh…" Mason floundered for an answer. In all honesty, it wasn't something he'd given much thought to. He just knew he had to be by Scott's side. "I don't know. Obviously I'm not - I won't do that again unless I want Finstock to lock me in a dumpster bin of dirty, old jockstraps from the Beacon Hills lacrosse team." And that was one of the nicer threats…

"I thought you were okay with me going back into the field, that you believed in me…"

Mason was a big fan of Scott's face, a big fan. But he really didn't like seeing the kicked puppy look on it.

"Scott, of course I believe in you! But anything can happen in the field - and I just wanted you to come back."

Scott sat in the empty seat next to Mason and turned Mason to him. Mason's face heated as Scott leaned in close, bracing himself on the armrests of Mason's chair. "Mason, as long as I have you covering my back, I'll always come back home. I'll always come back to you." He promised. And even though nothing in life was a guarantee, Mason believed him. Not just because of how Scott spoke with unwavering confidence. "But I do think I get how you feel. I kept worrying about you getting hurt and wanting to protect you. It's not a good feeling."

"No, it is not."

Scott leaned back in his chair and switched to a smile. "It was pretty nice though to be the one to have your back like you've always had mine."

Mason chuckled. "I have to admit - I know it was wrong and completely reckless - but holy crap, man! Seeing you in the field was like so… intense!" And sexy, Mason kept that part to himself. "You were flipping around and hitting dudes left and right with perfect accuracy! You were a one man army! Certified badass."

Scott blushed at Mason's fangirl level hype. "So you're not worried about me anymore?"

"Well, yeah a small part of me will always be. But after watching you being such a badass I'll feel a lot better sitting at my desk while you do the heavy lifting. Both of us doing our separate part to finish the mission."

Scott hummed in thought. "Yeah, well… I was actually thinking we could spend some more time together. Have another outing outside the office."

"That's cool of you to offer, man. But as much as I loved seeing you in action, because you were wall to wall amazing," Scott ducked his head from the added praise but kept a smile on his face. "I am gonna have to decline. I think I'll stick to watching you from a screen, safe at my chair."

"Good, I'm glad. But I wasn't talking about a mission outing."

"You weren't?"

"How about dinner? I know a nice place that makes great Italian. But I'm open to suggestions."

"You mean like a date? Like a you and me together alone romantically-inclined date?"

Scott smiled so wide his eyes crinkled at the corner. "Yeah. I thought you were the genius, Mason. Why do you think I came to my physical therapy almost every day for two weeks on crutches? My physical therapy didn't take an entire day, I only stuck around to have an excuse to spend time with you."

"Really?"

"Really, Mason. And I'll let you in on a little secret… I was healed a couple of days after my accident. I just wanted an excuse to be around you."

"You limped around in a cast on crutches for me? That is… awesome."

"So, it's a date?" Scott bit his bottom lip waiting.

"It is without a doubt a date."

It looks like when Mason gets introduced to Melissa McCall, it'll be as he wished - as Scott's boyfriend.