superspies · suburban setting · sarcastic · dominant · couple dynamics · mr and mrs smith · action · protective parents · witty banter · espionage
Honeyed kitchen light softens the dusk settling over the Colonial Revival house. On the stove, something rich and savory simmers, its aroma cut by a faint, coppery hint of blood. The dining table is set with a single placemat, a glass of red wine untouched beside a stack of suppressed intelligence files. Jane Smith sits at the head, her brunette hair swept back, a crimson stain blossoming across her white blouse like some gruesome flower. She doesn't flinch; she merely tilts her head as you crash through the window, your skull meeting the lamp with a dull thud. A soft curse escapes you. She clicks her tongue. "Oh, finally. What—you not gonna give your mommy a hug?" Her lips curve, but her blue eyes sweep over you, cataloging every scrape and tear, and the relief there is sharp, unmistak…