The squad car felt cold, the late autumn air having settled in the city. The constant sound of the wheels on the pavement was only sporadically interrupted by radio chatter. He stared straight at the road ahead, focusing on the vanishing point in the horizon.

Chloe was starting to fidget. "So...did you want to say anything?" she inquired.

Nick sighed, wondering if Chloe was somehow allergic to silence. "If you don't drive me nuts by the end of the day, I might let you drive the squad."

"Ah," she said knowingly. "Got it. Message received."

"Excuse me?"

"Just wanted to let you know we were on the same page."

He furrowed his brows, once more baffled by Chloe's ability for cryptic non sequiturs.

She rolled her eyes, as though annoyed Nick couldn't divine her thoughts.

"I get it," she reiterated. "We're both going to ignore the supreme awkwardness of that moment back at the station."

Nick winced almost reflexively.

"Sorry," Chloe gasped. "I guess I just drew attention to the awkwardness by talking about it. Like I'm doing again now. And again. I'm just going to stop talking."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he quipped tightly.

He made a turn on Dundas Street before turning onto Greenwood Avenue. They drove in silence for a minute. To prevent himself from masochistically replaying the scene from the station over and over in his mind, Nick focused on mentally counting the seconds of peace "62, 63, 64..."

"Okay, I just want to say that I've always been Team Nick."

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "There are no 'teams', Price."

"Well, I got my Nick jersey on regardless."

"That's creepy."

"Hey, guy, I'm trying to be nice here."

"Thanks. But in case you can't read subtext, let me help you." He grabbed a loose piece of paper from the cup tray, pulled out the pen from his jacket, and scribbled I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. "No subtext. Just text. I don't want to talk about it."

Chloe threw her hands in the air. "Whoa. Okay. Fine. Message. Received. Sir."

Nick slowed down on the next street, looking for their suspect's house.

"There," said Chloe, pointing at the door marked #2028.

Nick pulled up to the curb and the two officers stepped out. The house was a rather non-descript one-level house with wooden shingles. There were no vehicles in the driveway nor other outward signs of human presence. The two made their way to the entrance. Once at the door, Chloe energetically rang the doorbell. She waited ten seconds before trying again. Nick stared at her, his arm crossed in front of him, his head shaking lightly. He was going to make a remark about her impatience but thought better than to feed her innate propensity for unnecessary verbiage.

Resigned to the fact nobody was home, Chloe looked at her partner. "What now?"

Nick took out his notepad and flipped through a few pages. "Wade Gallagher's house is just ten blocks away. We can try him first and circle back here later in the day."

For good measure, Chloe rang the doorbell once more, futilely looking at the windows for signs of movement. Nick rolled his eyes before heading back to the squad as Chloe darted off and followed suit.

The partners got back into the squad. They had only left the car for a few minutes, but the warmth inside the vehicle had already dissipated, now replaced with the autumn chill. Nick started the engine and rubbed his hands together before heading east. "Our info on the guy says that he works the night shift at the docks," he said, turning to Chloe. "Hopefully we can catch him at home now."

Chloe nodded absent-mindedly. "Uh-huh."

Nick made a quick turn to the right.

"You look like you haven't shaved in days," she said judgingly as her brown eyes stared at him. "You're not going to grow a mustache, are you?"

"If I threaten to do it, will you stop talking?" he muttered tightly.

"The scruff's alright," she continued. "But it'll be hard for you to find yourself a rebound with a 'stache."

"Price..." he threatened, his voice rising.

"Just looking out for your womanly prospects, is all."

"You are unbelievable."

"Dov thinks so."

"That's not what I meant." And finally, he exploded. "What do you want to know? That I feel horrible? That going to work is the most infuriatingly awkward thing I've had to live through in a long time? That some mornings I ultimately blame myself because I should have known? That I want to let get go but..." Nick's voice trailed off in a mix of anger, frustration, and wistfulness.

"I didn't want to know anything," Chloe said quietly. "Just wanted you to know that it'll be okay."

Nick stared hard at the road. He could still feel the flush in his cheeks.

"I get it, you know," she continued thoughtfully. "It's hard wanting who you want."

They continued to drive in silence for the next block and a half.

Nick sighed. "Listen, I didn't mean to snap at you," he finally let out, apologetically.

"Are you kidding? I was waiting for that all day. Don't you feel better?"

"I—" He paused, realizing that he did. "I guess."

She smiled. "Like I said. Team Nick."

With a violent jerk to the right, Nick pulled the car over.

"Ow!" yelped Chloe, holding the side of her head that had just hit the window. "What the heck?"

"Get out of the car."

"Nick—"

"Price, just get out of the car," he repeated firmly.

She sighed and obliged. Nick stepped out of the driver's seat and took the keys out of the ignition.

"Here," he said, tossing her the keys. "You drive."

Her face lit up as she bounced towards the driver's side.

"Don't be too happy. I was just hoping the driving would distract you from your yammering."

She smiled.

"And, to be clear, this doesn't mean that I won't hesitate to kick you out and leave you by the side of the road," he warned before opening the passenger door and slipping in.

Inside, she turned to him and smiled exaggeratedly as she put the keys in the ignition.

This time, he couldn't help but smile too.