#marcus moreno reader insert

you never knew six months could pass so fast. before you met marcus, the days dragged on and were filled to the brim with monotony and drab routines. you ate, bathed, worked, ate again, and slept, and the cycle would start anew every day.

then your next-door neighbor’s cat got stuck in a tree and everything changed in an instant.

no one was sure how the paraplegic feline found itself in the old oak tree. the only thing everyone knew for sure was that there was no ladder in anyone’s shed tall enough to reach the poor thing. marcus had been moving in across the street when he saw the commotion from his living room window, rushing out to help.

everyone’s eyes lit up at seeing a heroic in such a time of need despite this being a job far above his pay grade. nevertheless, marcus was determined to help however he could. his brain was running a mile a minute with possible scenarios — could someone get on a metal ladder and marcus could float the ladder up to the cat? levitate something metal for the cat to safely walk onto and then lower back to the ground?

“kenny still has his wheels on, maybe you could get him down with those.”

your voice interrupted his last half-assed plan and he turned to you, cocking his head in confusion. “what kind of wheels?”

“kenny got hit by the mail truck six months ago. ended up living but can’t use his back legs anymore, which makes it all the more confusing as to how he got up there at all.” you shook your head at the absurdity of it all before continuing. “since you can control metal, maybe you can get him down by using the metal in his back wheels.”

marcus could have kissed you he was so happy. of course he wanted to help his neighbors, but he only had a little bit of time before he had to pick missy up from school. there was so much to clean and unpack from the move that he wanted to have some of it done before the weekend was over, but alas.

no one even noticed that marcus was in the process of getting kenny down from the tree before the cat was halfway to the ground, clearly not liking the fact he was suspended in the air. once he was only a few feet up, marcus let him safely drop and kenny immediately sprinted/rolled his fastest back to ms. nesbit’s yard. the small crowd that had gathered at the scene applauded (you couldn’t believe it) and all pat marcus on the back before returning to their homes.

before you could leave, however, marcus caught your attention with a small wave. “thank you for the idea, who knows how long i’d have stood there trying to think of something,” he offered his hand to you with a smile that you thought could have powered the whole neighborhood. “marcus moreno, just moved in next door.”

you accept the handshake and introduce yourself, trying to not get distracted with how strong his hand felt in yours. “don’t sweat it, i didn’t wanna be there for much longer either.” he laughed at your slightly snide comment and right then, you deemed yourself a goner.

it only took a month before you and marcus had dinner for the first time. he had made reservations at a nicer restaurant in the next town over, but they got hit with an unexpected power outage and had to close for the next couple days to fix it. so takeout on his couch it was, sitting closer together as the night wore on and trying occasional bites of the other’s food with sitcoms on his tv.

three months later, now you were set to meet his family and damn if that wasn’t the most daunting challenge you’ve ever faced.

“relax honey, missy will love you!” marcus reassured. he knows you and he knows his daughter; marcus is confident your personalities will mesh comfortably. you’ll get the seals of approval from missy and his mother and everything will be absolutely perfect. “everything will be okay, i’m gonna be here the whole time.”

no matter how desperately you wanted to believe it, there was no way you thought you could just easily fit into the moreno clan. marcus made it sound so easy, like they would love you simply because he did. he just wasn’t taking into account that the panel consisted of his daughter and his mother.

missy spent the previous night with anita, allowing you and marcus to go on a date then and now prepare for tonight’s dinner where you would meet them both for the first time.

“i’m just nervous! this is your family, your daughter! tonight i’m meeting the most important people in your life and i don’t want to screw up!” you huff and continue to get ready, wishing that you could just fast forward through this night.

marcus smiled at you, immediately bringing you into a hug to help soothe your nerves. “trust me, everything will be okay. i’ll be there with you the entire time.” with the way he was so confident in his words and how warm he felt against you, how could you think any differently?

marcus called anita once dinner was close to ready, telling her that you both were ready for them to arrive. well, that marcus was ready for them to come. he seemed like the only one the least bit excited for the night (besides anita, she seemed eager to meet you if what marcus told you was true). when missy announced her arrival, your stomach dropped to your feet because this was really happening and there was nothing you could do to change it now.

it was one look. one long, spite-fueled glare was all it took for the bliss you had with marcus to start to crumble. an angry comment doused it in gasoline and set it on fire without a second thought.

missy didn’t like you. no, it was more like she hated you and everything you represented to her.

when she barreled into her dad with a smile and a hug, she looked happy, excited even. then she turned and noticed you standing in the kitchen watching them together.

the polite introduction she gave was forced. heroic child or not, there was no hiding the displeasure in her eyes and tone. you told her your name and offered a hand to shake that was left hanging, choosing to instead leave to get washed up for dinner. marcus didn’t seem to even notice the tension in the greeting and that’s when you realized that this would be one of the longest dinners you’ve ever had.

anita greeted you with a smile and a comforting hand in yours. “my marcus has told me a lot about you! i’ve been pestering him for weeks to introduce you, but you know how he is,” you both laugh as she pats her son’s cheek affectionately.

poor marcus isn’t amused. “thanks, mom. now can you help me set the table?” he turns to you, your still tense shoulders telling your boyfriend that you need a few moments to yourself before dinner is served. they head to the kitchen and leave you on the couch that never felt this uncomfortable.

being in the moreno house never let you feel any negativity for long; there was always a stray blanket and comfort foods and your marcus waiting to make everything better. tonight, you just couldn’t get comfortable in your favorite corner of the couch no matter how you tried. it was probably because of the glare missy was sending you from the armchair, the preteen clearly disgruntled at more than just the seating situation.

completely unprompted, she spoke up from behind the screen of her phone. “you’re never gonna be my mom, you know.”

this was the exact moment you felt everything start to fall apart.

while marcus and his mother tried their damndest to make the night pleasant for everyone involved, you felt the icy stares from missy under your skin. you spoke when spoken to and you still attempted to converse with missy about safer topics — school, her friends, sports — and she answered them with an air of aloofness that was deeply unsettling.

marcus, bless him, noticed some of the awkwardness but not the source, trying to force conversation to attempt to better everything. that didn’t fly for very long. “i’m gonna go call wheels and work on our science project. night dad, night abuela.” missy kissed her dad and grandmother on the cheek before heading to her room, not even acknowledging you.

dinner was finished and you insisted on cleaning up, hoping you would get some privacy to begin the recovery from such a painful night. “i’ll help you, honey,” anita offered (but really she insisted) in helping and you couldn’t say no.

suds and warm water and an ache in your chest were in abundance while washing the night’s dishes. the reality of what transpired is hitting you like a freight train but you can’t unravel now, not when anita is being so kind.

“marcus almost never stops talking about you, you know,” she remarks while taking a plate from your hands. her eyes are knowing, speaking to her years of experience and love for her son. “i haven’t seen him truly happy like this in a long time. my marcus is a bright soul, has been his whole life. after missy’s mother passed, rest her soul, he was never as bright as he was until you came into his life. next plate, please.”

her words had you plenty distracted from the task of washing dishes, but her quick reminder had a hand shooting back into the bubbly water without hesitation. fingers fumbling around for the next thing to wash, you felt something sharp nick your hand and you brought it out of the water, holding it to your chest protectively. anita saw you clutching a now bleeding hand and immediately saw the wound.

“oh dear, let me see,” her hands were warm as she grabbed your hand and a clean dishrag and got it a little damp before wrapping it in the cloth. the bleeding is soon stopped and a band-aid is snagged from the medicine cabinet beside the fridge, put on the cut with the ease only parents have. “i’ll take care of these, dear. go and say goodnight to marcus.”

“anita, no, let me help-“

“nonsense. i can handle a few dishes, i’m not frail.” when she did the shoo hands, you knew you were beat. you took the defeat like a champion and plopped down on the couch next to marcus, immediately seeking his warmth. he had a way about him, that just being in his arms could protect you from everything that could ever try to hurt you. that was what you needed right now and you weren’t going to deprive yourself.

strong and comforting arms pulled you closer and he pressed a kiss to your temple. here in marcus’s warm embrace, you could pretend that missy wouldn’t throw you to the wolves at the slightest whim. logically, you know you have to deal with this new problem. for now though, you just let yourself enjoy one last blissful night of being his.

he walked you home (he knew it was cliche but you loved it all the same) later that night and you felt guilty that you let him kiss you so sweetly, let him call you amor as your noses bumped together. he didn’t know that everything had gone so extraordinarily wrong in the span of one dinner and his obliviosity was envied. “te quiero mucho, dulzura,” he cooed with a lingering kiss to your forehead. you let your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck as his nose nudged yours, gently coaxing you into giving him another kiss before reluctantly parting.

the adoration in his eyes nearly collapses you on your front porch. it takes immeasurable strength to go inside when he looks at you like that, like you can solve his every problem with nothing but a smile. one more kiss will tide you over until tomorrow, it always does. “goodnight, marcus. i love you too.”

-afewmonthspostdinner-

missy was getting tired of you. you were taking up more and of her dad’s time and it made her uncomfortable. she was used to being able to look up and see her dad ready to jump through fire at a moment’s notice; that’s how it’s been ever since mom died and she wasn’t ready to have that security blanket ripped away yet. despite the fact you’ve never tried to interject yourself in their father-daughter time, she felt like you were taking her dad from her.

then she met you and it all got worse. you were actually really nice! and making an effort to get to know her! this wouldn’t do. she knew her dad liked you; he wouldn’t bring anyone around that he didn’t think was worth the time of day. abuela liking you was another point in your favor. the icing on the cake? there was no mention of her mom at all, just like there hadn’t been for the past three weeks straight. you were making him forget about mom and she wasn’t going to sit by and let her mom’s memory be forgotten. so at the advice of her friends, missy continued to ice you out and hoped that something would come of it.

it sucked because the iciness seeped onto her dad too. she didn’t want to treat him the same as she did you but once you were out of the picture, things could be fixed between them. but he was nothing if not patient and didn’t try to force anything out of her, so she didn’t waste time worrying about it.

after seven long, glacial months, a massive wrench was thrown into missy’s plan of eternal winter. eavesdropping on a conversation between her dad and abuela, she heard her dad talk about asking you to move in with them. and what’s more, abuela encouraged it! something had to be done to prevent this tragedy from striking the moreno household.

nothing you tried worked. every attempt you made to know missy, to earn her approval, has given you nothing in return. it’s been months of trying to bond over her interests, making genuine efforts to know and trying to help her with anything she may need. you never thought it would be so demoralizing to be shunned by an eleven year old but every cold shoulder and secretly snide comment was wearing on your psyche. many people would have given up long ago and embraced the role of “disliked partner” but not you. it was made very clear early in your relationship with marcus that missy was the most important thing in his life and you respected that, and because of that respect, you wanted to prove yourself worthy of being in her life.

you couldn’t pretend much longer. it pained you to force a smile when missy would push you away yet again and tell marcus that everything was fine. you tried, oh damn did you try, but even a reward as stellar as marcus moreno couldn’t convince you to live with that kind of weight on your shoulders.

Plan? What plan?

Hell, maybe if you’d just listened,

“Yup!” you smiled. “Got it. The plan.”

Marcus thinned his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Sorry, Marcus,” you groaned. “I…I had a late night. My neighbors just had a baby and she was crying all damn night.”

(At least you were a better liar than you were a listener).

“Hey, it’s okay,” he smiled. “I’ll type it up and email it to you. We all have those days.”

You let out another groan - this time internally. Yeah, everyone had bad days, but you were way above your skill-set in this job and you should have been on it. Going from a high-ranking field agent at the Heroics London offices to a personal assistant at the HQ had been a shock to your system.

Above all, though, it had been necessary. Too much shit had gone on back in England - too many bad missions, too many sleepless nights.

It was one particularly traumatising mission that had sent you packing, begging your higher-ups for a transfer to a less dangerous position. You’d practically beseeched them not to tell anyone - especially Marcus Moreno - who you were, even less how powerful you were. Or had been. You’d thrown aside any ideals of mutations and super-powers. It had all become too much.

So, a desk job it was.

Part of you missed your old job. Every time Marcus asked you to go over mission plans, you’d ache for the thrill and adrenaline that came with field missions. Then you’d have to follow up with injury reports and therapy bills for the agents, and you were quickly reminded of why you’d given it all up.

Besides, working with Marcus wasn’t all that bad. He was a super chilled boss - he didn’t mind if you were late sometimes, and he’d let you leave during work hours to get coffee. And you couldn’t help but smile every time he made a comment on how surprised he was at your knowledge of the Heroics, especially for a new person. If only he knew that just a few months ago, you were practically the Marcus Moreno of the overseas offices.

Marcus worked late most nights. Most of the office was empty by 5PM, he would stay until his work was done (or until his eyes were aching from tiredness, because his job was never really done). You didn’t know how he did it - after all, you were counting down the minutes til you got to go home from the minute you sat down in the morning. And you’d still lie through your teeth to anyone who asked how you were settling into your office job.

So, it was safe to say that you didn’t stay late that much - if at all. Your job wasn’t the most time consuming or demanding, so it was easy to be finished on time. There were even days where you would wrap up not long after lunch and spend the rest of your day playing BitLife on your phone.

One night, however, you were stumped by the amount of paperwork you had. There had been four or five missions over the weekend that required stacks and stacks of forms and you were the lucky bastard that got to sign and approve them all.

It was late October, which meant it had gotten dark just a few hours after lunch. Rain had been falling since that morning, hitting the large glass windows of your office and emitting a dull, yet oddly comforting, thud, thud, thud throughout the room. It was exactly the kind of thing that you listened to at night to help lull you off to sleep. That habit wasn’t doing you many favours.

You were sat at your desk, head slumped into one hand and the other mindlessly scrolling through a word document. It was just approaching seven and you were barely staying awake. Marcus had been out in a meeting for hours, and in your exhausted state you’d almost forgot about his existence entirely.

“I told you, I’ll have the mission strategies done by Monday!” a frustrated voice rang through the room. “I need to go over them again. I’m not sending my men out into the field unless I know I’ve planned as best as I can.”

You sat up, tidying up your hair a little in an attempt to look less like you were contemplating the value of your job in your life.

Marcus looked surprised to see you - after all, he had never seen you here past 5PM.

“I have work to do. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he sighed and hung up. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Is everything okay?"

“I didn’t get all my paperwork done today,” you said. “They sent out like six teams last week. All these forms are kicking my ass.”

“That’s on me,” Marcus admitted with a soft smile.

“My inability to do paperwork?”

“No,” he chuckled. “It was my call to send them out. I forget how much paperwork comes from it.”

“It’s fine,” you replied (if it had been anyone else, it would have been much less fine).

“For what it’s worth, they saved a lotta people,” he pulled his office chair over to your desk, taking a seat.

“It’s literally my job to do all this,” you half-heartedly waved to your monitor. “You don’t have to justify it.”

“I know, but I feel bad,” Marcus said. “When you have people working under you, it becomes your job to make their lives as easy as possible.”

You snorted. “You have a drastically different mindset to all my former bosses.”

“Where did you even work before this?”

You paused, eyes wandering off to the rain-covered window. What was a reasonable lie?

“I worked for an office supply company in Pennsylvania,” you lied. “Nothing all that interesting.”

“Pennsylvania, huh?” he raised an eyebrow. “How’d you end up here?”

“I needed a change of scenery,” you replied. “So, what made you send out six teams last week? Is there a new threat?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like anything I’ve dealt with before, and I’ve been at this place far longer than I’d like to admit.”

Marcus was good at putting on a strong front, but there were moments where his facade was prone to cracking. You’d only seen it once or twice in the few months that you’d worked together. It was usually after long or stressful days. He put so much energy into constantly being a hero that it was only natural to falter. That was the very thing that had driven you away from your old job. The stress of having so many and so many lives on your shoulders was exhausting - soul destroying, even. There came a point when you had to ask yourself if it was even worth it. For you, it hadn’t been.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked.

Marcus sighed. “I say this with all the respect in the world, but it’s probably a little out of your expertise. I’ve been here twenty years and even I can’t get my head around it-”

“- try me.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “They’re a group of…aliens, maybe? I only say that because they’re definitely not from Earth. They keep attacking different Heroics bases, starting in England and working their way here. My best guess is that they want something we’re in possession of but the thing is, this organisation is hundreds of years old. I’ll be ninety before we work out what exactly it is they’re after.”

You froze. “They started in London?”

Marcus furrowed his brow. “No, I said England - but yeah, they did start in London. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you murmured. “When was the first hit?’

“July 16th,” he replied. “They’re weird. Not like the aliens in comic books or movies. They look human but their eyes are yellow.”

“Yellow?”

“Yeah. It sounds like something from Doctor Who, right?” he joked. “A field agent came across them a few days before their first attack. My superiors think the agent might know something about how to deal with them but…the mission went wrong, apparently. Nobody’s heard from the person in question since.”

You shuffled uncomfortably in your chair, trying to hide the change in demeanour.

July 12th had been your last day in the field. After the roughest mission of your life - one which had involved losing your mutations completely during a fight with an extraterrestrial species - you’d put in for your transfer. You didn’t remember much from your last day. Only one detail.

The species you’d come across had yellow eyes.

You were the agent.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked. “You’ve gone pale.”

“Yeah,” you wiped the back of your forehead with your wrist.

Had it suddenly gotten hot in here? The air felt thick, even though it was almost winter. Moments ago, the smell of your coffee and Marcus’ aftershave had been a pleasant thing, but now it felt like it was suffocating you. It was nothing to do with him, or the drink, just…the situation.

“Hey, while we’re here, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you-

“ - Marcus, the aliens are after me.”

You slapped a hand across your mouth. Okay, so you hadn’t wanted your confession to be so abrupt.

“You what?”

You stood up, pacing in front of your desk. “I’m not from a paper supply company in Philadelphia. I stole that from The Office. I’m actually from London. The Heroics office over there, to be specific.”

“Why would you lie?”

“I lost my powers after that mission. It all became too much and I didn’t want anyone to know who I was,” you continued. “When I transferred here, I specifically asked human resources to remove all the details from my file.”

“I’ve read your file,” Marcus said. “The name is redacted but I’ve read it. You’re amazing-”

“- that’s not the point,” you cut him off, ignoring the fact that your cheeks were heating up. “But thank you, I guess.”

“Why would you want to hide all that?” he asked. “You could be the key to beating this enemy.

You pushed your chair away from the desk, standing up. You sauntered over to the other side of the room and poured yourself a glass of water from the jug that Marcus kept on his own desk. The rain was still coming down fast, pelting against the window panes and filling the thick silence between you.

“That’s exactly it,” you murmured. “Last time I fought them, I lost my powers. I haven’t been in the field without them.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Marcus came over to where you were standing. He put a comforting hand on your shoulder with a smile. “Like I said - I’ve read about everything you’ve done. Even without your powers, you're insane at what you do.”

“Why me?”

“You know more about these aliens than anyone else here,” he gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Just think about it - please?”

—

The last place you’d expected to be on a Saturday night was in the basement of a Heroics facility in Russia.

Your original plans had involved a bottle of wine and several reruns of the Fresh Prince, yet here you were; decked out in a new, leather Heroics suit, chasing after Marcus Moreno in the dark pits of a building that had recently been attacked by aliens. Yeah - aliens. The aliens. The very ones you’d sworn never to go near. The ones that took away your powers. You probably get the gist.

Being back in the field had been a nerve-wracking experience but as soon as you were actually out there, it was okay. It was hard not to be, with adrenaline coursing through your veins and Marcus supporting you. He hadn’t stopped with the pep talks since you’d agreed to help him five days ago.

It had changed your relationship in a way; Marcus had always had respect for you, but now he felt like you were more on the same level. You might have been the only person in the entire universe who truly understood the stress that came with his job, and he wasn’t going to take that lightly. He was being completely patient with you; turning round every so often to check that you were doing okay, and reminding you that it was never too late to pull out if you needed.

It did feel a little too late now. You’d already fought off about twenty aliens - safely, thanks to your combat skills and Marcus’ katanas - but you were tired.

The plan wasn’t that complicated. Now that you’d got rid of the aliens blocking the building’s mains, all you had to do was actually make it down to the main-breaker switch in the basement. Then you’d hit the switch for the main generator upstairs - where hopefully the teams of heroes up there had gathered all the aliens into one room - and it would trigger an energy bomb. It had been especially designed with your help to only affect the extraterrestrial, so your colleagues up there would be fine. Cue a gorgeous explosion of alien guts, and all this would be over.

“Marcus, watch out!” you called, jumping aside just in time for an alien to appear round the corner. “There are a few strays!”

You elbowed the creature in the stomach, bringing your knee to its crotch and bringing it down to the floor. One blast from your gun, and it was out.

Adjusting to combat without powers had been difficult. In fact, you hadn’t had much time at all. It was thanks to Marcus’ unwavering faith in you that you felt confident enough to even do this in the first place. Naturally, there had been a few daydreams about one-to-one combat classes with him, but running blindly into the field with his blessing seemed equally good.

You hadn’t given it much thought as to how Marcus’ image of you might have changed. In a matter of days, you’d gone from his assistant to being the solution to the most stressful time in his career. He’d appreciated you enough before just for doing his damn paperwork but now, he held you in high regard. It was au contraire to what you thought of the whole situation - that he’d be mad at you for lying, or that he’d lost respect for you for hiding things.

“Heads up!”

You caught Marcus’ katana in the mid-air, hands wrapping around the grip and taking the head clean off an alien that had snuck up on you. The two that followed met the same fate. Maybe you were starting to get the hang of this.

“Damn,” Marcus said. “You’re almost as good as me with the swords.”

“Maybe they can be my new specialty,” you teased.

“I can teach you anytime,” he shot back.

“I look forward to it.”

“C’mon,” he glanced ahead, offering out his hand - you took it with a smile. “We’re almost there.”

He broke into a jog, leading you further down the corridor.

You kicked open the door to the basement, dragging Marcus inside and slamming it shut behind you. You swiped one of the swords out of his back and shoved it through the handles, preventing anyone from the outside coming in. Everything from this point on was pretty simple - find the switch, set off the switch, do a victory dance - but you didn’t need any more aliens complicating it.

Brown eyes watched as you sprinted across the room, practically colliding with the mainframe computer that powered the building. You were in work mode now - even though your motivation had been collecting dust for a few months, you were an unstoppable force once you got started. You barely even had to think about it, letting your hands tap away at the computer.

“Miracle Guy, do you copy?” you spoke to your earpiece. It was a still little hard not to cringe at his chosen alias, but it did match up with his persona.

“We copy.”

“Perfect - I’m about to detonate the device,” you replied. “Now, it is designed solely for extraterrestrials but you might wanna be sensible and cover your ears.”

“Copied.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Marcus. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah,” he smiled at you. “Go ahead.”

Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist and slammed it down on the detonator.

The whole building shook - not enough to concern you, but enough so that you knew the device had gone off. Marcus pulled you against him to steady you, momentarily preparing a plan to protect you if there was any aftershock. You both stayed like that for a moment, eyes squeezed shut in case of disaster.

After a moment, you peeled one open.

“This is Miracle Guy - we’re all clear down here.”

You let out a laugh, grabbing onto Marcus’ arms.

“We did!” you grinned. “We actually did it!”

“I think you did it.”

—

You almost fell asleep on the plane ride back.

Everyone else had, but Shark Boy snored like a damn Wookiee. Who even came up with these names?

You were sitting in the cockpit, cradling a coffee in your hands. Russia was cold, after all and even with a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you were still shivering. You’d had to discard the jacket layer of your suit, on account for the fact it was covered in alien blood, and also to ice your bruises. The latter didn’t exactly help your shakes either.

“Hey,” Marcus gently greeted you. “Mind if I come in?”

You smiled. “Not at all.”

“How are you doing?”

“Yeah, not too bad,” you replied. “I thought it was going to be a lot worse, but once I got going, it was like I’d never left field work. Minus the missing powers, of course.”

“Even without them, you’re one of the strongest people we have,” he said. Marcus took a seat beside you. “I really appreciate your help. We couldn’t have done it without you and you’ve literally saved all of our asses.”

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged it off.

It wasn’t nothing. You’d gone against all the promises you’d made to yourself, just to help Marcus - it would have been a different case had anyone else asked. Maybe you’d come to care about him a little.

“It’s not nothing,” he rebuked. “Man, if I’d known that my assistant was gonna turn out to be the bad-ass I’d read about in those files…”

You chuckled. “I did a pretty good job of hiding it. I guess the secret’s out now though.”

“Only if you want it to be - I can easily ask these guys to forget what they saw today. Things don’t have to change unless you want them to.”

“Nah, I think I need it to be out,” you said. “Desk work is not my calling. As much as I love working with you - or for you, I guess - I think it’s time I find my purpose again.”

“We’ll still work together. I can promise that much.”

“I look forward to it - not so much the injuries though.”

“Oof, yeah,” his brown eyes flickered to the cut forming on your cheek. “That alien packed a pretty hard punch, huh?”

“It really did,” you grumbled.

“Here,” Marcus pulled the ice-pack from your hands, gently pressing it against the sore spot. “So now that you’re not technically my assistant anymore, would you like to go out for dinner sometime?”