"I don't like to sweat," Avery told Lucas as he clicked his tongue at her. She huffed out a breath and moved closer to him as he walked around some walls that appeared out of nowhere, different levels in the near-distance. She grumbled something about him being a pessimistic slave driver even as she approached to take the weapon from him. It looked like a gun.
Was he going to make her play laser tag? Because of how much she trusted Lucas, even when he had rubber bullets in his gun her danger sense - that she'd never really talked about because it was something she wasn't entirely sure was even real - never actually triggered. He could sneak up on her and she'd not know until he was pressing a pretend gun against her temple.
"I'm not a quitter, I just don't like getting sweaty for any reason. And any game that involves guns and walls means I'm bound to lose. That's not fun either."
She kicked at the floor, tilting her head at Lucas.
"You okay?" The stuff with Eric had thrown them all off, but the handlers had to be taking it even more badly than the agents.