The team bus rolled into the Wigan complex just after dark, headlights cutting across the quiet car park before easing into its bay.
The engine idled for a moment, then fell silent as one by one, the players stood, stretching stiff legs, reaching for bags and already halfway out of the day in their minds.
Dawson was on his feet early.
He grabbed a kit bag from the rack near the front, one that could have stayed right where it was, and turned back down the aisle.
"Leo," he said, casually. "Carry this for me, will you?"
Leo, with his own bag slung over his body, looked at the bag, then at Dawson.
It was too light to matter, with Leo staring at it for a tad bit longer before finally taking it anyway.
Once outside, the breath of the players clouded as they began moving towards their cars or respective modes of transport.
"Night, gaffer."
"Good work today."
"See you in the morning."
