The grill was going, the sun was low, and laughter drifted across your backyard like it belonged there.

Everyone from your shift had shown up for your baby’s birthday—casual clothes, beer bottles in hand, off-duty but still tight-knit like always. It wasn’t often Sunnyvale and Shadyside officers could just be people.

Nick was sitting beside you, shades pushed up in his hair, watching your kid giggle at something one of the others did with a balloon. He smiled, soft and real.

“This is nice,” he said, nudging your arm slightly. “Not exactly police protocol, but… definitely more fun.”

The four of you at the table talked easily—stories from patrol, dumb jokes, inside references that made you feel like a unit.

Your baby clapped their hands, and Nick leaned in, voice low with a grin: “Okay, I know it’s not a competition, but I definitely just got the best gift.”