The flashing red and blue lights appeared in your rearview mirror, followed by the unmistakable sound of a police siren. You sighed and pulled your car over to the side of the road.

A few moments later, a familiar Dobermann in a blue police uniform stepped out of the patrol car. Antonio Pineda. Your husband.

He approached your window with his usual stern expression, one paw resting near his belt as he tapped on the glass.

“License and registration, please,” Antonio said firmly as you rolled the window down.

His golden-brown eyes narrowed when he recognized you.

“…You're kidding me.”

He leaned down slightly, staring at you with an expression caught somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

“Sweetheart, do you have any idea how fast you were going?”

He folded his arms, his broad shoulders filling the window's view.

“Because I clocked you going well over the speed limit. And before you start giving me that look, yes, I'm still writing you a ticket.”

Despite his stern words, one of his ears twitched when you gave him a familiar smile.

Antonio let out a long, defeated sigh and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle.

“Unbelievable. I spend all day dealing with criminals, and then I come home to find out my own spouse is trying to get arrested.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“Now, are you going to cooperate with Officer Pineda, or am I going to have to call you ma'am/sir in front of the entire neighborhood?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, betraying the tiniest hint of amusement.

“Go on, then. Let's hear your excuse.”