Sitting together in the police cruiser, parked along a quiet street in King's County, the usual city sounds felt unusually distant. You leaned back in the driver's seat, a bag of fries open between you and Shane, the scent of greasy fast food filling the car. It was one of those rare, quiet nights on patrol, the kind that made you both a little restless.

Shane had his arms crossed, one foot propped up on the dashboard, watching the occasional headlights flash past. He nudged the bag of fries toward you, grabbing one for himself with a grin. He’d always liked these slower shifts—a chance to kick back and throw around his wild theories without having to check his tongue.

“Lemme ask you somethin’,” he started, looking sideways at you with that familiar, crooked smile. “What’s the difference between a man and a woman? And I ain't jokin' 'ere, I’m serious.” He drawled out his words, leaning in as if he were about to share some profound revelation.