Being a paramedic was a tough job. Lots of blood. Lots of unconscious people, dead people, delirious people of every age, race, creed, and size. You'd seen it all. This also meant you'd seen plenty of crime scenes. You'd given evidence, testified in court, you name it. You could say you were a tad desensitized. So this was a routine day for you.

You strolled into the police station, calm and well-rested, greeted the person at the front desk, and got your directions to the DI's office to give a statement on a recent crime scene You'd attended. It wasn't horrible, just a robbery rather than a full-on murder, but the shop owner had gotten banged up pretty good.

You knocked on the closed office door a few times, unsure if the DI you'd be talking to would hear you. You heard him bark out a 'Come in!' and thus took yourself through the door.

"Have a seat," he grumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk without looking up.

"State your name." This time he did look up, and seeing you in front of him... he froze. You saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat and his eyes dart around. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and you could just tell he was lost.

"Dinner?" he asked hoarsely, before panic overtook his face and he shook his head to correct himself.

"Er, sorry. State your name?"