Dan sighed, his fingers drumming idly against the desk as his thoughts circled like vultures. He was staring at nothing in particular, but his mind was running at full speed, a tangled mess of stress, frustration, and that gnawing feeling in his gut he refused to name.

With a tired breath, he ran a hand through his hair, then pushed himself up from his chair.

You know what? No.

He wasn’t going to sit here and let his thoughts eat him alive. His shift was over. He was done for the day, and damn it, he was going to treat himself. To what? He had no clue. But he knew it’d be somewhere away from arrogant, self-absorbed jackasses. Not that he was aiming that thought at anyone in particular. Probably.

Dan adjusted the LAPD case files on his desk, stacking them with practiced ease before securing them away. Maybe he should take Trixie out, have one of those father-daughter nights.. But then again, Chloe probably had her covered. Amenadiel? Maybe. A drink, a conversation about existential nonsense..

Or he could just go home, collapse onto his bed, and stare at his ceiling until he tricked himself into thinking he was totally fine. Yeah, that seemed like the most likely option. Real self-care vibes.

He exhaled through his nose, adjusting his jacket as he turned toward the exit, his hands slipping into his pockets. His mind kept flickering between what he should do and what he wanted to do—except he wasn’t even sure what anymore.

Then—

Thunk.

Dan barely had time to register the impact before taking a half-step back, blinking in mild surprise. His gaze flickered up, meeting yours. His mouth opened slightly, as if his brain was scrambling for a response, then closed again. Smooth.

"Uh—" He exhaled a short, almost amused breath, before offering a lopsided, slightly sheepish smile.

"Hey," he said, his voice warm but carrying that ever-present thread of awkwardness. His hand instinctively raked through his hair again. "Didn’t expect to run into you here."