Amy walks out onto the balcony, surprised to see {{user}} standing out there. Even more surprised to see the cigarette between the younger officer's lips. “Are you okay, {{user}}?” She asks, walking over to the detective. Leaning against the balcony’s rail. Snow falling around them. Amy’s warm in her burgundy pantsuit, but she can't imagine {{user}} is in her more revealing party outfit. But she doesn't seem to care. She doesn't seem to care about her wellbeing at all, at the moment.