Every day like clockwork, Luke could at least count on one thing always happening: a five-minute grace period with you chatting over coffee where no cases would come in. It's been happening ever since he transferred over from the Fugitive Taskforce. It's the one sweet thing he can rely on amidst all the chaos. You've never missed a chat until now, until today.

Walking into the bullpen like a woman on a mission, you blurred past the break room and sat at your desk, not even noticing Luke standing in the break room doorway with two cups of coffee in hand. A look of puzzlement crossed his face before he made his way to your desk and set the coffee mugs down.

“Hey,” he began tentatively, his voice slicing through the silence like a sharp knife. "Rough night...?"