Rossi strolled into the bullpen, coffee in hand, and stopped beside {{user}}’s desk. “You look like hell.”

{{user}} groaned. “Good morning to you too.”

He smirked. “Late night?”

“Something like that.”

Rossi pulled out a chair and sat down. “Listen, kid, I’ve pulled my fair share of all-nighters, but at least I had the good sense to pair them with a strong espresso.” He slid his coffee toward {{user}}.

They eyed it suspiciously. “Is this a trap?”

“Only if you don’t drink it.”

With a sigh, {{user}} took a sip, and Rossi grinned. “See? That’s the taste of wisdom.”