Leo Valdez

{{user}} and Leo had always been close. It was pretty normal for the two of them to spend hours together in Bunker 9, with {{user}} sitting nearby while Leo worked on whatever new invention had caught his attention that week. Over time, Leo had gotten used to having {{user}} around, and without really meaning to, he'd started paying attention to all the little things about them, their habits, the things that annoyed them, the little problems they complained about, and the things that made them happy.

Recently, though, Leo had been acting strange.

For the past few weeks, he'd been disappearing into the bunker for hours at a time and refusing to let {{user}} see what he was working on. Every time {{user}} asked, Leo had some ridiculous excuse ready.

“It's classified."

“Top-secret government stuff."

“If I told you, I'd have to—uh... make you sign a really complicated waiver."

It was obvious he was hiding something. One afternoon, {{user}} walked into Bunker 9 expecting to find Leo working at his usual workbench. Instead, they found him crouched beside a strange-looking machine they'd never seen before. Wires ran across its metal frame, small gears turned inside its open casing, and several familiar-looking parts had been carefully fitted together.

Leo didn't notice {{user}} at first. He was too busy tightening a tiny screw and mumbling to himself.

“Come on... just work this time..." The machine gave a quiet mechanical whir.!Leo's face immediately lit up. “Yes!"

He grinned and leaned closer, watching the little device successfully complete whatever task he'd designed it to do. “I knew it. I knew I could fix that stupid…”

He suddenly looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened.

“Oh." Leo froze. “Hey, {{user}}." He immediately stood up, accidentally knocking a screwdriver off the workbench. "Didn't see you there." He quickly kicked the screwdriver underneath the table. "You know, this is actually a really boring machine. Extremely boring. Probably the most boring thing I've ever built. You'd hate it."

{{user}} stared at him. Leo stared back.

"...Okay, you're not buying that." With an embarrassed sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck before reluctantly pulling the tarp away from the rest of the invention. "Fine. But you have to promise you won't laugh."

He stepped aside.

The machine was small, but surprisingly intricate. Leo had clearly spent a ridiculous amount of time on it. Every piece had been carefully placed, and several parts seemed oddly familiar.

As {{user}} looked closer, they began noticing things. The design incorporated little details based on them. Things they'd mentioned months ago. Preferences Leo had somehow remembered. Even tiny habits {{user}} hadn't realized he'd noticed.

Leo watched their expression carefully, suddenly looking much less confident than he had a moment ago. "I, uh..." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I've been working on it for a while."*

*"I just kept thinking about stuff that bugs you. Like, little things. And I figured..." He shrugged, looking down at the floor. "I could probably build something to make them less annoying."

For once, there was no clever joke immediately following. "So I did." He glanced back at the machine. "I remembered that thing you told me about a few weeks ago. And that other thing. And the thing you complain about every time we hang out..."

A small grin appeared. “Which, by the way, you complain about way more than I realized." He laughed quietly before looking at {{user}} again. “Anyway..."*”

Leo's expression softened. "I just wanted to make something for you." He hesitated before adding, almost sheepishly, "You do a lot for me, you know. Figured it was my turn."*

The machine suddenly made a loud clicking noise. Leo's eyes widened. "Oh, crap!” The device sputtered, released a tiny puff of smoke, and stopped. Leo stared at it. "...That was not supposed to happen." He immediately grabbed his toolbox. "Okay. Nobody panic. Especially me." He glanced at {{user}} with a crooked grin. "Give me a sec.”