The surveillance van smelled like cold coffee, gun oil, and Kane’s terrible cinnamon gum.

Rain drifted softly across the windshield while downtown traffic crawled three blocks below them in streaks of white and red light.

Nobody talked much anymore during stakeouts.

Mostly because Evie once described the experience as “watching boredom hold a hostage situation.”

Tonight she sat cross-legged in the passenger seat flipping through radio stations while Cassian monitored the warehouse entrance through binoculars beside her.

Static crackled briefly through the speakers.

Then jazz.

Then sports commentary.

Then a preacher screaming about eternal judgment.

Evie stopped there for a second.

“…Honestly, he’s got energy.”

Kane looked up from the backseat.

“You left him on the apocalypse channel again.”

“He sounds committed.”

Cassian lowered the binoculars slightly.

“Focus.”

Evie pointed toward the windshield.

“I am focused. Spiritually.”

Dominic snorted quietly from the far corner of the van.

The stakeout had already lasted three hours.

Nobody had moved near the warehouse except one exhausted security guard and a raccoon currently digging through alley trash with suspicious confidence.

Evie spotted it immediately.

“Oh my God, there he is.”

Kane leaned forward.

“The raccoon?”

“The king himself.”

Cassian kept watching the warehouse.

“The raccoon is not mission-relevant.”

Evie gasped softly.

“That’s exactly what he wants you to think.”

Rain tapped steadily against the roof overhead.

The van heater hummed quietly near their feet while city light drifted through the windshield in blurred reflections.

Another thirty minutes passed.

Kane eventually fell asleep in the backseat with one headphone still hanging around his neck.

Dominic disappeared into a gas station run and returned carrying enough chips to medically concern someone.

Evie accepted one bag automatically.

Then yawned hard enough to interrupt herself halfway through opening it.

Cassian glanced over briefly.

“You should sleep.”

Evie shook her head immediately.

“No. Last time I fell asleep during surveillance, somebody stole my catalytic converter.”

“That happened once.”

“It changed me.”

Cassian looked back through the binoculars.

“Sleep.”

Evie settled deeper into the seat stubbornly.

“I’m participating.”

“You’ve spent twenty minutes naming raccoons.”

“They deserve identities.”

Another yawn interrupted her again.

This one stronger.

Cassian reached across the center console without looking away from the warehouse and lowered the radio volume slightly.

Small movement.

Automatic.

Evie watched his hand for a second before leaning her head back against the seat.

The heater warmed the inside of the van enough to make her eyes heavier by the minute.

Outside, rain blurred the city into watercolor streaks against the glass.

Dominic opened another bag of chips quietly in the back.

Kane snored once.

Then snorted himself awake.

“…Did we get shot?”

“No,” Dominic said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Copy that.”

Silence settled comfortably through the van afterward.

Not awkward.

Just tired.

Evie blinked slowly toward the windshield lights.

Then toward Cassian beside her.

Still watching the warehouse.

Still motionless.

One elbow resting near the steering wheel while rainwater traced uneven lines across the glass beyond him.

“You know,” she murmured sleepily, “you’re weirdly calming for somebody with this many confirmed kills.”

Cassian adjusted the binoculars slightly.

“You’re half asleep.”

“Correct.”

A few seconds passed.

Then:

“You smell like gunpowder and expensive laundry detergent.”

Dominic nearly choked quietly in the backseat.

Cassian didn’t react.

Evie’s eyes slipped shut briefly.

Opened again.

“You ever notice tactical people buy the exact same soap?”

No answer this time.

The heater hummed softly near the dashboard.

Rain continued tapping against the roof in uneven rhythms while the city blurred quietly around them.

Evie shifted once in the passenger seat trying to get comfortable.

Then again.

Eventually her shoulder brushed Cassian’s arm.

She didn’t move away afterward.

Another few minutes passed.

Cassian kept watching the warehouse through the binoculars.

Evie’s breathing slowed beside him.

Then her head tipped sideways gently against his shoulder.

The movement happened slowly enough that nobody reacted at first.

Not even Cassian.

Dominic noticed before Kane did.

He looked up from the chips.

Then immediately looked back down again like survival instincts kicked in.

Cassian stayed completely still.

Evie shifted slightly against his shoulder searching unconsciously for a more comfortable position before settling again.

Her hand relaxed loosely near the center console beside his.

Rainwater slid softly down the windshield.

The radio host switched to late-night jazz somewhere beneath the static.

Kane woke up twenty minutes later and stared directly at the front seats.

Then very slowly pulled out his phone.

Dominic looked over.

Saw the phone.

Nodded once solemnly.

Kane took the picture silently.

Flash off.

No sound.

Cassian noticed anyway.

His eyes shifted briefly toward the rearview mirror.

Kane froze instantly.

Phone halfway lowered.

Nobody spoke.

Then Cassian looked back toward the warehouse without saying anything.

Kane stared at Dominic in disbelief.

Dominic mouthed silently:

holy shit

The van stayed quiet after that.

Hours passed slowly beneath rain and city light.

Warehouse guard changed shifts once.

Traffic thinned.

The raccoon returned carrying what looked suspiciously like a hot dog bun.

Through all of it, Cassian never moved his shoulder again.

Not even when his coffee went cold in the cup holder.

Not when his phone vibrated twice against the dashboard.

Not when Dominic whispered at one point:

“Boss, your arm’s gotta be numb by now.”

Cassian kept watching the warehouse through the rain-streaked windshield.

“She’s sleeping.”