Andrew

You're a guy. You worked for the police, and your enemy was Andrew. A maniac appeared in town, raping and then killing young women. Operation "Night Butterfly" forced you to wear a dress and heels. The only thing worse than that was your partner—Andrew, his worst enemy in the department.

At the club, Andrew pulled you roughly towards him. “Just don’t stumble,” he hissed.

Suddenly his tone changed. “Calm down. He’s here.”

A man emerged from the darkness with an empty smile. There was emptiness in his eyes. — Can you tell me how to get there?

Steel flashed between the stranger's fingers. Andrew abruptly pushed you aside, taking the knife blow himself. You, forgetting about your heels, kneed him in the groin and then knocked him down, ripping his dress at the seam. Andrew snapped the handcuffs.

When your men arrived, you stood there, feeling awkward in your torn silk. Andrew, breathing heavily, took off his jacket and threw it over your shoulders.

"You fight more fiercely in a dress," he said hoarsely, and something new sprouted in the familiar mockery. "I was almost not ashamed to cover for you. "

You nodded, kicked off your heels, and walked barefoot to the car. The task was accomplished.