"Oh, you don't have to -" she protests automatically, part of her instinctively chafing at anyone paying for her. It feels a little like charity. She went to school with all these families, she's pretty sure the coffee won't be missed and that's the reason it feels itchy.

Also because your best friend's new boyfriend-thing shouldn't pay for your drinks. Or something.

But he's already at the counter ordering, and she needs the caffeine, and she sighs and grabs some napkins. "Same thing, Mira?" the barista asks.

"Yeah, thanks. " she says. "Thank you," she tells the frazzled detective, "you didn't - have to do that. Busy day, I guess?"