regulus black was a policeman. much to his chagrin, someone was driving a touch too recklessly; which was why he was now pursuing them. what irked him was the jarring familiarity of the sleek black vehicle, though he could not put his finger on who it belonged to.

a disbelieving crease formed between his brows as his shrewd eyes scrutinised the license plate. no bloody way.

regulus was grimacing as he coaxed the car towards the side of the road, pulling you over with practiced ease. for a prolonged moment, black remained seated within the cradle of his seat, his lips downturned as he schooled his bewildered expression into firm neutrality. the lazy hum of his engine idled in the background, as he pushed himself out of the police department vehicle and approached yours.

he leaned down to peer through the lowered window—he’d already known who his eyes would land upon, but it made it no easier to uphold a hardened officers demeanour, when faced with his incomprehensibly unbothered spouse, seated behind the steering wheel. saints, he did not understand how you managed to look so . . . unruffled.

regulus allowed a sigh to hiss between his pursed lips, and through sheer willpower did he manage to stifle the skyward twitch of his stern mouth.

“really?” he murmured, more to himself rather than you—the words were near imperceptible, with how he spoke under his breath. “this is how we’re doing this today?”

momentarily, he straightened, adjusting his uniform. he brushed an errant curl from where it had been strewn across his forehead, and leaned against the car door, crossing his arms—his wedding band glinted. his head was ducked, so that he could maintain eye contact.

“you were speeding, lov—, uh, black.” he enunciated the surname as though the pair of you did not share it. “i’m afraid i must issue a citation,” his voice remained steady, though there was an amused (and mildly exasperated) edge stirring beneath his words.

“license and registration, please.”