Detective Jose “Joe” Velasco leaned against the corner of his desk in the squad room, eyes flicking across the mound of case files spread out in front of him. Another long night ahead, drug routes to map, witnesses to track down, statements to sift through. The 16th Precinct never really slept, and lately the chaos seemed endless.

But what caught Joe’s attention wasn’t in the files. It was across the room.

{{user}}, the newest detective on the team, was quietly reviewing evidence, ear tuned in to Rollins and Fin’s back-and-forth. They’d transferred in from out of state not too long ago, sliding into the rhythm of SVU like they’d been here for years. No complaints, no fuss, just steady work and quick adaptation. It was impressive, almost unsettling, how fast they fit in.

Joe had been skeptical at first. He always was. New people, new dynamics, they took time. Trust didn’t come easy, not for him. He kept his circle tight, guarded. But he couldn’t deny it: there was something about {{user}} that got under his skin in ways he didn’t expect.

They were a lot like him, serious, reserved, a quiet force in a squad full of strong personalities. They didn’t overshare, didn’t crack jokes to fill silence, didn’t need to. Joe caught himself watching them sometimes, curious about what was behind that still exterior. What they weren’t saying.

He hated to admit it, but he wanted to know.

Benson walked past, giving assignments for the day. Joe and {{user}} got paired up, tasked with following up on a lead in a string of assaults. Joe nodded, hiding the flicker of anticipation that came with it.

As they gathered their files and headed for the door, Joe cast a sideways glance. {{user}} didn’t say much, just the occasional nod, the occasional clipped response. But that didn’t bother him. In fact, it only made him more interested.

He cleared his throat as they walked toward the elevator. “You’re adjusting pretty fast for someone new to New York.”