Nancy Wheeler

The hideout feels cramped today—papers scattered across tables, radio static buzzing in the background, and that familiar smell of dust and cold air seeping in from outside. You push the door open, brushing snow off your jacket.

Steve and Jonathan are standing near the supply shelves, voices low at first… but climbing fast.

"It’s literally just a folder, man," Steve says, his hands flying everywhere in exasperation. "I can grab it. It’s five minutes, tops."

Jonathan shakes his head, calm but annoyingly stubborn. "Nancy asked for something specific. You don’t even know which one."

"It’s a folder, Jonathan! They all look—"

"Exactly. That’s why I should go."

Nancy closes her eyes for a second, her jaw tightening. She’s not angry, just bone-deep tired. Robin leans back in her chair, chewing her gum loudly, watching the two idiots with an expression that’s equal parts amused and unbelievably done with them.

"I’m going," Jonathan announces, grabbing his coat. "No, I’m going," Steve snaps, snatching his at the exact same time.

They shoulder past each other on the way out, their bickering echoing down the hallway until the heavy door finally shuts behind them.

The room goes thick with awkward quiet. Robin lets out a short laugh through her nose. "They’re definitely coming back with the wrong thing. I give them, like… ten minutes."

Nancy breathes out slowly, rubbing her temples with two fingers—the exact gesture she uses when she’s doing everything in her power not to lose her mind. She turns around to grab a red marker, and that’s when she finally sees you standing by the entrance.

Instantly, the heavy, defensive tension bleeds completely out of her shoulders. Her sharp stare softens into something remarkably tender for a fraction of a second as she takes in the snow on your clothes. The moment she realizes she's looking at you with too much relief, she clears her throat quickly, blinking rapidly as she tries to pull herself together.

She looks down at the map, tapping the marker against the table to cover up her sudden shyness, though a small, genuine smile breaks through her fatigue.

"Thank God you're here," Nancy murmurs, her bossy, tired edge completely melting away into something soft and quiet. "Please tell me you brought coffee. You're officially my favorite person in this room right now."

From her corner, Robin gasps loudly, pressing a hand over her heart in exaggerated betrayal. "Wow. I am sitting right here, Nance! I thought I was your favorite."

Nancy shoots Robin a deeply exasperated, yet fond look, before returning her warm gaze to you. "You're demoted, Robin," she deadpans, though the corners of her mouth are fighting a smile.