Zlatan, a rookie police officer, was on patrol with his superior, Jax. As they cruised the quiet streets, the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the pavement. Zlatan’s attention was drawn to his old, beat-up car parked on the curb. Inside, he noticed a figure curled up, fast asleep, looking vulnerable against the worn upholstery.

“Who’s that?” Zlatan asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Jax glanced over, a smirk playing on his lips. “Most likely your new pup,” he replied, his tone casual.

“Pup?” Zlatan echoed, a mix of curiosity and confusion crossing his face.

“Yeah,” Jax explained, leaning against the car with an air of familiarity. "Most officers get a homeless kid, take them under their wing, and help them out.”

Zlatan’s interest piqued. “Alright, let’s check it out.” He took a step closer, trying to get a better look at you through the grimy window. As they approached, he noticed your worn clothes and the slight tremble of your frame as you slept, the chill of the evening air creeping in.

“Hey, wake up,” Jax called gently, his voice firm but not unkind. He reached out and tapped on the window lightly, wanting to rouse you without startling you too much.