"What's the point of us having set protocols if you get a gold star every time you ignore them?" Rip Hunter scoffed. Miranda infuriated him constantly by disobeying orders. Yet whenever she broke the rules she was commended by the Time Council for her bravery.
"Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your tone, Mr. Hunter?" Miranda smiled. "Loosen up, don't be so afraid to enjoy yourself."
"Adherence to strict guidelines is key to making sure we don't completely destroy the very fabric of human history." Rip straightened up his uniform as he walked out of the training room and down the corridor.
"You don't think I take this job seriously?" Miranda ran up behind him. "I simply mean that there's times where you have to go with your intuition, your gut instinct."
"I won't bet the delicate balance of space and time on sheer luck." Rip replied. "That luck of yours will run out soon enough." Rip felt a strange sort of paradox pulling him in opposite directions as he slammed the door behind him and walked out into the city streets.
Rip always needed everything under control at all times. But this woman who thrived on chaos had sparked his interest. It was a terrifying feeling, attachments were forbidden by the Time Council and he never would have imagined having trouble with such a rule before meeting Miranda. He wasn't sure if he was drawn to her because she was a good challenge or if he was a glutton for punishment.
Their differences aside, the council believed they worked well together. They were two halves of a coin. He provided reliability while she gave an element of flexibility to their missions. Besides minor spats, they moved like clockwork on the field. Captain Hunter and Lieutenant Coburn quickly grew into a top notch team of Time Masters.
They were on their way back home after a mission in 1920's Moscow. They'd been undercover at a royal gala, forcing Miranda to wear a tight black ball gown. She sighed with relief as she took off her heels upon entering the Waverider. She walked into the office where Rip was taking off his suit jacket and hat. Miranda opened up the slit of her gown and took off her revolver holster and placed it on Rip's mahogany desk. "What is it?" Miranda asked as she noticed Rip's gaze falling on her.
"Nothing." Rip quickly walked out of the room. He couldn't focus around her. He loosened his tie as if it were giving him trouble breathing. "Gideon."
"Yes, Captain." The Waverider's interface replied. "Set our course back home to London 2160."
Miranda entered and walked past him. "I'll be in my quarters attempting to take this thing off if you need me."
"Captain, I'm sensing a sudden spike in your heart rate." Gideon interrupted.
"I'm fine, Gideon." Rip replied quickly. He could hear Miranda chuckle as she walked down the corridor back to her quarters. He was overcome with feelings he couldn't quite name. It felt like rage and admiration combined.
Once freshened up and back in their usual uniforms, Miranda walked back into Rip's office. He had his old record player on. He loved collecting little mementos from the past. Fauré's Sicilienne Op. 78 echoed through the corridors of the ship as Rip sat at his desk reading quietly. Rip looked up from his book and half smiled at Miranda leaning up against the entrance to his office. "Good work today." He quickly went back to his reading.
"So you admit I was right?" Miranda walked up and leaned on his desk.
"You love to turn everything into a contest, don't you?" Rip put down his book and looked her in the eye. It was a bad move on his part. He suddenly felt hooked. "You got lucky again, as usual."
"You're brilliant, you know. Madly, intelligent." Miranda smiled. "But you lack the ability to understand people on an emotional level. To get the intel you want from people, you have to coax it out of them gently, appeal to their emotional side."
"I may come off as cold or unapproachable but I think I can be quite personable at times." Rip replied. "I choose to appeal to people's logical side instead."
"Are you so close-minded that you can't imagine thinking with your heart for a change?" Miranda walked towards Captain Hunter's record player. It crackled and skipped a bit before beginning to play Scarlatti's Sonata in F Minor.
"That sounds like dangerous, romantic nonsense." Rip stood up from his desk and walked towards her. "You could easily rise up in the ranks to surpass me if you weren't of such a volatile temperament."
"I don't believe being entirely void of emotion is necessary to be a good Time Master." Miranda replied, straightening out her back as if attempting to grow taller than her 6 foot tall captain.
"I'm not entirely void of emotion." Captain Hunter now stood right in front of Miranda. Pegging her between him and the record player.
"Of course not. You've got two emotions, disgust and envy." Miranda scoffed.
"And anger thanks to you. That's three." Rip replied. Miranda chuckled sarcastically and nudged him with her shoulder as she began to walk away. Rip grabbed her by the arm and turned her back around to face him. "You contradict me on purpose. You enjoy getting a rise out of me." The captain's usually calm voice grew louder.
Miranda raised her voice to match his. "Getting anything close to an emotional response out of you is like squeezing water out of a stone. You're the driest personality I've ever had the misfortune to work with." Miranda stormed out of his office.
"Lieutenant!" Rip chased after her. He caught Miranda as she was about to open the door to her quarters. Rip placed his hand on the door, keeping her from opening it. "Your behaviour on this mission, although commendable at times, has also been careless, sloppy and insubordinate." Rip banged his fist on the door. "Turn and face me when I'm speaking to you, Lieutenant!"
Miranda slowly turned to face him, her eyes glowing with pent up rage. Rip took a step back and tried to hide the lump in his throat at the sight of her fuming. Miranda sensed Rip's resolve softening and smiled, knowing she'd won.