Avery screwed up her nose. "You might sweat," she told him, "But I don't. Sweating is gross, no matter the circumstances."
The gun wasn't heavy, not like a real one. She'd held them before, of course she had, mandatory training at eighteen underneath her first ever handler who had been the one to send her out into the field before Lucas took over and kept her off it, and out of danger. Real guns were loud, they had a kick that always hurt her shoulders and they were dangerous. They were weapons that were made to kill, no matter how skillfully they were used, they were weapons that were made to kill people and that just felt like it was the antithesis of her very person.
"You love me," she said, blowing him a kiss as he teased her about being difficult to pin down for training. "Besides, my primary role here is as a healer. Bear's been keeping me busy. So I've been too tired to train." She turned on her own gun and grimaced. Laser tag. Laser tag she really didn't want to play but at least he wasn't making her run in the gym.
Rubbing the back of her neck, she scowled playfully at him. "I don't just live to amuse you, you know, butthead," she grumbled, rolling her shoulders and flexing her fingers around the gun, holding it properly and then dropping it to her side having pulled the strap over herself. She was perfectly capable of using them. She just avoided it. "You better give me a headstart."
As Lucas sighed, Avery frowned and moved closer, resting her hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes sincerely. "There is no way you coulda known. I mean- you told me what he was willing to do to keep his secret, how far he was willing to go. There's no guarantee he didn't mess with your heads. But- but I'm worried about you. You guys trusted him, right? That's a blow."