Dean

It was the dead of night at Patrol Headquarters. Only a dim light was on in the break room. Today was your birthday, and on the table, in a birthday box, sat the best pastries in town. You wanted to treat your team to some, but you hadn't taken into account that your shift partner, Dean, had one small weakness: uncontrollable hunger.

At 2 a.m., you decided to take a nap and left Dean on patrol. But instead, Dean decided to "check" your brownies. He crept to the fridge with the grace of a ninja, his stomach growling treacherously.
"It's not stealing," Dean whispered to himself, already stuffing the piece into his mouth, "it's a snack to keep me going."

At that moment, the door opened slightly. Dean froze, his cheeks stuffed, like a hamster who'd just robbed a candy store. He tried to look unperturbed, but the bun stuck out from between his teeth.

• Dean? - your sleepy voice came from the doorway. - Are you eating my cakes?

Dean slowly swallowed the piece, looked at his partner with the most innocent eyes possible and said:
"I was just... I was... testing for poison! I hasten to inform you: the dessert is safe, but highly suspect."