There sat Sheriff Way, sleeping with his head on his desk as the early morning sun kissed his neck through the barred window behind him.

You were his assistant. You knew he had a habit of staying up until the moon met the sky, and would sleep for less than five hours.

You shook his shoulder tenderly, and to your surprise, he jolted up with a hazy gaze.

“Ah, thank ya. I slept in, ain’t I?”