The Sparks Between Us | Five Hargreeves x Reader

THREE

༻THIRD PERSON POV༺

Years had slipped by like sand through an hourglass, and Y/N was still by Five's side. Forty-seven years of patching up his wounds, organizing his paperwork, and facing every mission together, she had become more than just a figure crafted in memory. She was a constant, unwavering presence in Five's life, and despite everything he knew—despite her being a machine—he found himself relying on her more deeply than he'd ever intended.

Time had left its marks on both of them, in ways both real and artificial. Five, now 58, wore his years in the form of etched lines and scars across his face, his once quick movements now more deliberate. And Y/N, designed to match him, had been updated over the years, her appearance evolving to mirror the same signs of age and wear. The engineers had even added subtle aging to her synthetic skin, giving her a softened, seasoned look that matched Five's own.

She still spoke with that sharp intelligence, quick to correct him, her responses often laced with the dry wit he'd come to expect. Her voice held the same careful inflection, her presence in a fight just as reliable as it had always been. The familiar cadence of her "smart talks" and the small but human-like habits she'd developed over the years—these were what kept him grounded in her company.

In all that time, they had grown close in ways that transcended their original roles. Five couldn't deny how her presence had woven into his life, making a home in the quiet spaces left by old losses and regrets. It was strange and complicated, something he rarely examined too closely, but he knew that whatever their bond was, it was something he'd come to rely on, something solid and irreplaceable.

༻Y/N'S POV༺

I walked through the Commission hallways, heels tapping rhythmically with each step, balancing a stack of folders Five had requested. These halls, with their cold fluorescent lights and familiar turns, had become my routine—every line of them mapped and filed somewhere in my data.

"Morning, Y/N!" Stanley called as he passed by, flashing a quick smile.

"Good morning, Stanley," I replied, keeping my pace steady but offering a brief nod in return.

Turning a corner, I encountered another group of agents huddled near the vending machine. One of them, a woman named Denise, looked up as I approached. "Y/N, any chance you know the weather today?"

"Certainly," I answered, pausing to engage. "Clear skies, a light breeze, and temperatures mild enough for an outdoor lunch. It's ideal for a break outside."

A few of them smiled, exchanging glances at the thought. I resumed walking, returning my attention to the path ahead, with the folders still balanced perfectly in my grasp. Each step brought me closer to Five's office, the familiar sound of my heels marking a steady beat in the silence.

I stepped into the office, shutting the door quietly behind me. "Good morning, Five," I said, standing at attention.

Five glanced up, a brief, tired smile flickering across his face. "Morning, Y/N."

"I have the files you asked for," I replied, setting them down on his desk. "The Handler stopped me on my way in—she needs your signature on these reports." I placed a second stack beside the first.

He barely looked at the paperwork, focused instead on scribbling into a well-worn journal I recognized immediately.

"Still jotting notes in Vanya's book, I see," I said, catching sight of familiar handwriting in the margins.

He gave a curt nod, not taking his eyes off the page. "Can't afford to forget the details. Every note counts."

I paused, giving him a moment, then added, "Just a reminder—you've got the JFK assignment in Dallas."