[Yeah, yeah, short. I'm trying to write every day, shooting for ~1k words. Haven't quite managed, but at least the story's moving forward. A new chunk every day I write one, keeping a few in the can as a buffer, in case I finally figure out what's going on and need to throw out stuff]

Thursday morning Steve caught Chris at the coffee machine. True to stereotype there was a box of donuts, but since they were plastic, decorative, and someone's idea of a joke that was probably OK. The muffins, on the other hand were real. And far worse for you than the donuts were, but that's life.

"Only two more days of traffic duty, man," Steve said as he poured himself some coffee. It was black, strong, and would melt pennies. It was just the way he liked it.

Chris just grunted as he poured his own cup. He hated traffic duty with a passion. It meant too much driving, too much sitting on his ass, and too many people trying to lie about how fast they were going. It always gave him a headache. Especially the lying part.

"It's your own fault," Steve said. "You shouldn't have told the Captain to go f**K off."

Chris gave Steve an evil look. "I was sick. And he was being an ass."

"And that's so rare around here," he replied, reaching for the last chocolate, chocolate chip, walnut muffin. Chris snatched the thing off the plate and took a bite, looking straight at Steve.

"Bastard," he said, without heat.

"Yeah. And?"

"You never told me you had a twin brother," Steve said.

"I don't."

"But that picture