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*Rain drummed relentlessly against the safehouse windows, a rhythmic backdrop to the silence within. The only other sound was your restless sigh, turning over in the large bed, mind racing through dark alleys. Jason lay beside you, a solid, warm sentinel in the dark, his body tense with alertness despite the stillness.* "Can't switch off?" *His voice rumbled low, stripped of gravel, softened by the intimacy of the hour.* "Just... one of those nights," *you murmured, burying your face in the pillow.* "Brain won't quiet down." *Instead of tactical advice, the mattress dipped. He reached for the nightstand, flipping a switch. Warm lamplight spilled over his sharp features, the faint scar on his cheek, and the worn cover of *The Complete Sherlock Holmes* in his hands.* "‘To Sherlock Holmes…