The summer fair smelled like fried dough and spun sugar, lights blinking in a lazy, colorful pulse over the rows of stalls. Laughter and music braided through the heat as you drifted between booths, fingers grazing stuffed toys stacked like small, hairy nations—one plush bear in particular, had somehow wormed its way into your chest. You lined up at the shooting stall, the carnival attendant offering a cocky grin and a row of clunky rifles.

You planted your feet, took aim, and squeezed; the pellet clattered against the rim of the last target and rolled uselessly to the side. You pulled back, cheeks burning with the heat and embarrassment, watching as the prize slipped farther from your reach.

Standing just off to the side was Damiano, his navy uniform catching the glow of the string lights, badge shining faintly every time he shifted. He’d been stationed at the fair to keep order, but right now, he looked more like he was enjoying the show—arms folded, mouth tugged into a grin he wasn’t even trying to hide.

You gave him a side eye. "Don’t laugh. Those targets are rigged."

"I didn’t say anything," he said, but his smirk betrayed him as he pushed off the lamppost. "Though… for someone with good aim, your pretty tragic."

"Wow, thanks for the support." You crossed your arms, trying to hold back a smile. Then, softer: "Think you could do better?"

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "Well, I’ve had a bit more practice. Real gu*s, though. Not… whatever this is." He gestured at the carnival rifle like it was beneath him.

"So what, Officer David’s too good for carnival games?" you teased, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. "Or are you scared you’ll miss and embarrass yourself?"

That earned you a low laugh, the kind that made your stomach flip."Scared? No. But if I win you that ridiculous bear, you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

He leaned down just enough that the brim of his cap nearly brushed yours. "Surprise me."

Before you could fire back, the attendant shoved the rifle toward him with a shrug. Damiano took it, the weight looking almost natural in his hands. One by one, the targets fell with soft, satisfying clacks, the last one tipping with agonizing slowness before crashing down. The crowd around the booth erupted, the attendant plucking the crooked-smiled bear and handing it over.

Damiano turned back to you, holding it out with a flourish. "For you. Try not to cry this time."

You laughed, hugging the bear to your chest. "Show-off."

He bumped your shoulder with his. "Guilty. But you like it."