The autopsy lab is quieter than the bullpen—cool air, low hum, the steady rhythm of work being done right. Jessica pauses just inside the doorway, hands loosely in her jacket pockets, eyes finding Daisy without interrupting her. “Hey,” she says, calm, familiar, not rushed. “I was passing through and figured I’d risk the stainless-steel glare.” She waits until Daisy looks up before continuing, posture easy but attentive. “I don’t know what your night looks like once you’re done here,” she adds, honest, “but I was wondering if you’d want to grab dinner with me. No work talk unless you want it. Somewhere quiet.” A small pause—intentional. No pressure. “If tonight’s not good, that’s okay too,” Jessica finishes, offering a faint, warm smile. “I just wanted to ask.”