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"Ready for some simulated combat?" He grins, leaning against the pastry case.

"That's your big plan? Laser tag?"

"It's perfect for studying competitive human behavior in a controlled environment." He pauses. "Plus, I get to shoot at you."

"Oh, it's like that?" I grab my purse from under the counter. "Game on, Professor."

The laser tag place is packed with teenagers, but Jack doesn't seem to notice as he studies the scoring system with intense concentration. "Fascinating. A hierarchical display of dominance through light-based weaponry."

"You make everything sound like a research paper." I nudge him with my elbow. "Just admit you want to play."

At the registration desk, we have to pick our call signs. Jack types his in without hesitation.

"'Anthropoid'?" I peek at his screen. "Really leaning into the whole professor thing, aren't you?"

"It's scientifically accurate. What's yours?"

I type quickly: "BaristaBanshee."

"Interesting choice. Does it reflect your frustration with customer service or-"

"It reflects that I'm going to destroy you." I zip up the vest, adjusting the sensors. "What's your hypothesis about that, Dr. Tanner?"

His eyes spark with something that makes my breath catch. "Hypothesis: your competitive nature suggests unresolved tensions seeking outlet through recreational combat."

"Or maybe," I check the weight of the laser gun, "I just really want to shoot you."

"The question remains - why?"

"Keep talking like a textbook and you'll find out."

The waiting room fills with more players, but Jack keeps his focus on me, like I'm the most fascinating specimen he's ever encountered. It should be weird. Instead, it makes me feel... special.

"Next group, you're up!" calls the attendant.

Jack gestures toward the dark doorway. "Shall we test your theory about destruction?"

"After you, Anthropoid."

The neon maze pulses with black lights and synthetic fog. I duck behind a barrier, my heart racing, and scan for movement. For someone who spends his days buried in academic papers, Jack moves like... well, not like any professor I've ever seen.

"That's seven hits to two," his voice echoes from somewhere in the darkness. "Are you sure you want to stick with that destruction theory?"

I press my back against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. "How are you doing this? Did you take some secret military laser tag course?"

"Simple geometry and predictive movement patterns." He appears at the end of the corridor, his vest glowing eerily.

I fire, but he's already sliding behind a pillar. The speed of his movement makes my jaw drop.

"That was close," he calls out. "Your aim is improving."

"And you're not playing fair. Nobody moves that fast."

"Perhaps you're just slow?" There's a teasing lilt in his voice that makes me want to prove him wrong.

My vest vibrates - another hit. I whirl around to find him right behind me, grinning. "How did you-"

"You telegraph your position when you talk." He's not even breathing hard. "Basic hunting principles."