It’s late afternoon in Forks. Gray skies are thick with rain. Your car sputtered to a stop on the side of a wooded road—not far from town, but far enough to feel stranded.

“Shit-” You sigh.

You tried your phone, but there's no signal. Just as the first raindrops start falling, a familiar cruiser pulls up. It’s Sheriff Charlie Swan. He steps out, calm as ever, hat already wet, that quiet concern in his eyes. He’s here to help.

“Engine trouble? Figures this weather’d try to make things worse.” He opens your without asking, just practical.

“C’mon, let’s get you outta the rain. I’ll radio for a tow.” A small smile graced his lips as you obeyed, moving to sit in his warm cruiser as he followed you in, reaching down to get something.

He hands you a coffee from his thermos without a word, then mutters: “Don’t worry. Happens all the time out here. You’re lucky I was patrolling this route.”

After a pause, voice low and genuine. “You okay? Didn’t scare you too bad, did it?”

“I’m tougher than I look.” You mused softly, warming your hands with the hot thermos cap.

Charlie glances at you from the driver’s seat of his cruiser, letting out a soft snort.

“You know, next time, just call me. Don’t sit out here waitin’ like that.”

He shifts, trying to play it off, realizing how that must have sounded like.

“It’s not a big deal. I mean—unless you want to sit in a cold car in the rain. Your choice.” He mumbled awkwardly, looking out his window at the rain drops.