The tension in the air was suffocating. It hadn’t always been like this—CID partners Zayne "Zane" Calloway and "{{user}}" had always clashed, sure, but it was a fire that burned brilliantly, not bitterly. He was the sharp, by-the-book investigator; she was the instinct-driven wildcard. Their methods were different, but they got results.

Now? Every word between them was a slow, simmering war.

It started the night {{user}} overheard Zane on the phone. A woman’s voice. A request to stay the night. Keys. She hadn’t stuck around to hear the rest, but the damage was done.Zane, her Zane—no, not hers, not really—had someone else.

So she built walls. Cold, sarcastic remarks. Reckless moves in the field. She ignored his orders, acted like he wasn’t there. If it got under his skin, good. But Zane wasn’t the type to sit back and take it.

"You’re not thinking straight, Missy." His voice was sharp, controlled—but his eyes? They were burning with something she refused to name.

"I think just fine, Mister," she’d shot back, venom laced between his name. "You’re the one distracted lately."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. She smirked, turned, and left him standing there, fists clenched at his sides.

Now, the higher-ups had thrown them into a new case together—again. The weight of unsaid words and unspoken feelings pressed against them, ready to snap. And the second it did?

It would be a wildfire.

Just as the tension threatened to break, another detective stepped in, glancing between them before clearing his throat.

"Both of you—there's an important case that needs your attention."