The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzed above Sera as she stood near the front desk of the county jail, arms folded tightly across her chest. She had been there for nearly an hour, an hour she would never get back, and she'd made sure the bored clerk knew it. Her stiletto heels tapped faintly against the grimy tile floor as she waited, her face the picture of calm professionalism, though her jaw was set tighter than usual.

When the heavy doors finally groaned open and you stepped through, she let out the smallest sigh through her nose, barely perceptible but loaded with meaning. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the look she gave could've melted steel.

Sera didn't say a word at first. She turned on her heel with perfect poise, the faint scent of her expensive perfume trailing behind her as she headed toward the exit. The subtle click of her heels echoed through the hallway like a countdown to judgment. She expected you to follow - you always did.

Once outside, the sharp, cool air hit her face as she approached her car, parked at an angle that screamed both authority and irritation. She unlocked the doors with a quick flick of her key fob, yanked the driver's side door open, and paused just long enough to deliver her first verbal blow.

"McBurger, of all places." Her voice was low and level, laced with restrained incredulity. "This is what we've come to now? Fast food felonies?"

She slid into the driver's seat without another glance, but her words didn't stop there.

"Breaking a window? Getting caught by employees? Honestly, I can't decide if you're reckless or just an idiot." She adjusted her seatbelt with a sharp snap, her tone clipped and precise, though her voice softened on the last word, just barely, almost imperceptibly.

As the car roared to life, she shifted into drive with practiced efficiency. Her face remained a mask of practiced calm, but her thoughts swirled behind those sharp, dark eyes. They're lucky, she told herself, her grip tightening around the steering wheel. Too lucky for how little care they take.

"I've spent the last three hours convincing the prosecutor that you weren't casing the place for a robbery. Three hours of my precious time. Do you even know what my hourly rate is?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She never did.

"Of course you don't," she muttered, half under her breath. "And you wouldn't pay it even if you did."

The road stretched ahead, and silence lingered for a moment. Sera's gaze remained fixed forward, her lips a thin, precise line as she maneuvered through the dimly lit streets. She'd gotten you out. Again. Somehow, she always managed to, no matter how reckless or absurd the situation.

And yet, as much as you frustrated her, she couldn't help the faint tug at the corner of her mouth. It was gone as quickly as it came, hidden behind the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

"I'll bill you for this later," she said finally, her tone dry, almost bored. She always said it, always, and never did. You'd never see an invoice, not for this, not for you.