“Gimme’ a moment here.” Ezekiel spoke in between the snapping of his limbs while he stretched. “God that hurts,” His eyes shuttered, and his hand reached for his wallet which was precariously balanced on the edge of the table.


    Outside the building, country music could be heard blaring from a navy-blue truck covered in decals of every sort. “Get in!” Lucy yowled from inside the truck, attempting to be heard over the music; She pressed her hand to the door handle, unlocking the door and kicking it open.


    Ezekiel grabbed hold of the handle on the vehicle''s interior, pulling himself up into the passenger seat, taking a solid minute before deciding to put his seat belt on. “Let me guess, Arnold is gonna rip me a new one when we get there.” Ezekiel sighed, running his hand across his face.


    “We both know his name is Arnez, Ezekiel.” Lucy spoke both jokingly and with a serious tone, she knew Ezekiel didn’t like Arnez because he was younger than Ezekiel, and overall, more appreciated by the station.


    “I couldn’t care less what his name is, the bastard...” Ezekiel whispered the last couple words in his sentence, rustling around his pocket for a packet of cigarettes, a mere two left inside.


    Before he could even pull out his extremely tacky but also extremely expensive engraved lighter, which he stole from his mother; he was interrupted by Lucy demanding he not smoke in her Truck, because Miriam would kill her for it.


    “Cmon what’s a lil’ tar and tobacco gonna do, summon the devil?” Ezekiel snickered in response, crossing his legs and tapping the single unlit cigarette between his fingers, his left arm crossed over his abdomen and clutching the right side of his vest.


    “You out of all people shouldn’t be talking like that.” Lucy squinted, grasping the obvious cross dangling from Ezekiel’s pocket, looking him dead in the eyes as she did so in an attempt to prove her point.


    “Oh, piss off, we both know god isn’t real.” Ezekiel groaned, tilting his head to the side, continuing to tap and turn the cigarette that rested between his fingertips.


    “Look, if you’re gonna smoke, wait ‘till we get to the station.” Lucy extended her arm for a handshake of agreement, hoping Ezekiel wouldn’t go ahead and light it anyway. She didn’t want to make Ezekiel feel bad by telling him *why* he couldn’t smoke in her truck anymore.


    Ezekiel rolled his eyes, accepting Lucy’s handshake in a somewhat crooked manner. “Alright, but I want at least a ten-minute smoke break when we get there.” He announced, most likely louder than he ever has, glancing out the window at the sidewalk while Lucy pressed her boots to the pedal.


    “Don’t you think ten minutes is a little long for a smoke break...?” She sighed in response, Lucy understood addiction was difficult, but a ten-minute break the moment they arrived at work just seemed like too much to her.


    “No, I really don''t.” Ezekiel was blunt and genuine in his answer, he had taken hour-long breaks from work before just to sit outside and smoke, it was difficult to tell if he even worked at this point.


    The truck was stagnant and silent while they continued their drive downtown, stopping at the occasional red light. though the silence didn’t remain for long, as it was broken about 20 minutes into the drive when Ezekiel rolled down his window to whistle at a random man passing by.


    “Ezekiel!” Lucy sneered, gritting her teeth at the detective’s clear indecency; she’d never stood for catcalling of any kind and was honestly more than disgusted by it.


    “Cmon Lucy you’re a married woman, of course you wouldn’t get it!” Ezekiel snickered, resting his elbow on the windowsill grinning at Lucy, he’d gained far more life and energy since earlier that morning, and Lucy wasn’t having it; beginning to roll up the window with Ezekiel’s arm still resting on it.


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    “I hated you doing that before I even had a girlfriend.” Lucy rolled her eyes, ignoring Ezekiel hastily trying to roll the window back down as his shirt had gotten caught in it.


    “Lucy, roll the window down!” Ezekiel seemed to demand, yet his tone was still too light and blunt to be considered aggressive and demanding; his words were rushed and staggered, including a voice crack more than occasionally.


    “I just think it''s disgusting, really.” She continued her tangent, firmly expressing both her support and lack of support for certain things Ezekiel does.


    “Lucy, roll the window down!” Ezekiel repeated once more, a sharp jolt of never-before-seen intonation filling his speech with annoyance while he struggled to get his sleeve out of the now completely rolled up window.


    The window began to slowly reverse its course, rolling down just enough for Ezekiel to pull his sleeve from its clutch. “Next time it’ll be your head.” Lucy joked; she always had a sense of inexpertly timed humour, which paired rather poorly with her sense of justice.


    “I think it was closer to my fingers.” Ezekiel huffed, not even bothering to fix the cuff of his sleeve which was now severely wrinkled and more than out of place; the orange stripes no longer straight against the yellow fabric. “Could be worse.” he spoke, his shoulder shifting when the truck began to move once more; the light turning from red to green, followed by Lucy pressing the gas pedal to the ground, taking off from the light as if she wasn’t doing 50 in a 30.


    Ezekiel shifted side to side in his seat, rummaging through his pocket for a moment; after years of drinking, the alcohol had certainly affected his memory, or so he assumed it was the alcohol. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew he couldn’t remember if he had brought either a pack of cigarettes or a lighter.


    “For the last time I told you not to smoke in the truck.” Lucy’s gaze sharpened toward the road, she couldn’t see Ezekiel directly, but she did have more than excellent peripheral vision, not to mention even if her eye were closed the random pages, keys and unused wallet chains rustling and clanging against each other in Ezekiel’s pocket could alert an army of deaf soldiers from seventy kilometres away.


    “Relax I get it; I''m just checkin’ to make sure they’re still there.” Ezekiel coughed up his words; his ears ringing after doing so to the point it covered the sound of the blazing air conditioner and the blaring music.


    The truck came to a violent stop when Lucy made it to the front of the station; her decal covered, music blasting, diesel scented truck stood out more than a tad against the average blue, black and white police cars and cruisers parked outside and next to the station.


    The driver-side door viciously swung open, it’s surprising she hasn’t thrown it off its hinges yet; her music was still blaring, the concrete shaking speakers running off her phone which was adorned with a handmade engraved wood phone case her wife had made for her to propose, as she couldn’t afford a ring at the time, even if she did Lucy was never one to wear jewellery, that was more Ezekiel’s thing.


    “Jesus Christ, Lucy you’re lucky you’re a cop or you’d have enough speeding tickets to make a quilt by now...” Ezekiel groaned, sitting down on the running boards the truck had bolted to its sides. He preferred to sit down and raise himself to the ground as opposed to Lucy simply jumping out of the raised vehicle, though no matter how gentle the landing was Ezekiel still stumbled to his feet.


    “Lucy, you’re here!” Called a gentle, trustworthy voice; face plastered with a smile, a notebook held in his left arm pressed against his chest causing wrinkles to form in his uniform, and a mug in his right hand, one could assume it was coffee, Afterall he’s not Ezekiel, nobody but a lonely 48 year old man puts booze in their mug at 9:52 AM.