st9yliquid

“Will it hurt?” the dental patient waiting beside you asks.

“No,” you assure with a kind smile. “You’ll feel a little pinch, maybe, and then all of the pain will go away.”

He nods, grips the sides of the chair, and closes his eyes as you slide the mouth mirror behind his top molars.

“Hey, doc,” one of the receptionists calls. “We need you at the front when you’re done here.”

“Got it,” you reply quickly, keeping your eyes and mind on your patient. “There we go,” you murmur when you find the cause of the sudden tooth decay. “Here comes the pinch.”

Using the cotton pliers from the dental hygiene set, you extract a small object lodged between teeth fourteen and fifteen, or as you explain to the patient a piece of food that wasn’t removed by flossing or brushing and embedded itself between the back molars.

“How’s it feeling?” you ask once the tools are removed from his mouth.

“Much better,” he answers. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Wendy, your hygienist, will be right back to finish cleaning, then we’ll apply a dental sealant to ensure there’s no further decay or wear on your enamel back there.”

As you stand and discard your gloves, you wave Wendy over to finish the cleaning process. She politely reminds you that you’re needed at the front. However, her knowing look is enough reprimand that you promise to pay more attention without neglecting your patients.

The walk to the reception area is short, but before you reach the end of the hall, you hear a familiar voice.

“Officer Luca,” you greet with a smile. “Are you bothering my receptionist again?”

“No, sweetheart,” Lucille, the receptionist who has told you more than once she thinks Luca is the sweetest little gentleman she’s ever seen, assures. “But you’ve left poor Luca here waiting.”

Luca smiles as he extends his left arm to hug you. “I’ll forgive you,” he whispers against your temple.

“How kind of you,” you tease. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you wanted to leave early today.”

“And she can!” Lucille interrupts. “Her last patient is nearly done.”

“But I…” you begin, though you trail off when Luca looks into your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“There, uh, there was one other thing I wanted to ask,” Luca adds. He shifts on his feet, a movement that anyone else would have missed.

“Are you okay?”

Luca smiles and nods but gestures toward Lucille. You smile, take his hand, and lead him to your small office at the back of the building. Once you’re alone, you turn and give Luca a proper hug before you lean back against your desk and encourage him to tell you what’s bothering him.

“We’ve been dating for a while,” Luca says.

You nod and refrain from commenting about being there because you want to know where he’s going. The hug he gave you a moment ago makes you confident he isn’t ending the relationship.

“I want to introduce you to my team. If you’re okay with that.”

You lick your lips and push yourself to stand before him as you ask, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides, you might as well meet them before the wedding.”

Luca shrugs as you laugh. When you talked several weeks ago about how serious you were getting, you didn’t anticipate he’d start talking about marriage so quickly. However, you both know that’s what you want, so it doesn’t scare you.

“I would love to meet your team. Especially Street, since I’ve heard so much about him.”

“Sorry,” Luca responds, though his smile doesn’t drop.

“No, no, I support your bromance.”

Luca rolls his eyes as he pulls you against his chest. You lay your hands on his shoulders and look into his eyes as you smile.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Right now?” you reply. “I thought you meant-“

“Whenever you want,” Luca amends. “I just mean ready to go.”

“We can go now. If you want.”

“There’s one thing I have to do first.”

Before you can ask what that is, Luca tilts his chin and kisses you.

“Should I be nervous?” you ask as Luca helps you out of his truck.

“No,” he answers quickly. “Are you?”

“Not really.”

Luca laughs at you, and the sound makes you smile. You tighten your grip on his hand, then follow him into SWAT HQ. Several men are working out, officers are walking through, and people are waiting for various meetings. Most greet Luca, but he continues to lead you through the large common area.

He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand as he pushes a door open. Inside, there’s a large kitchen and sitting area, and five people. They look up when the door opens, greet Luca, then look away again. The woman is the first to realize she needs a second look, and a smile breaks out on her face as she jumps over the back of the couch and rushes toward you.

“Luca!” she yells.

That draws the attention of the men, and when Luca grunts from her well-aimed punch to his shoulder, they follow her lead and join you and Luca.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he begins before introducing you to each member of 20 David Squad.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say after shaking their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things?” Street asks.

“Not about you,” Tan interjects.

“Mostly good things,” you agree.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Deacon asks.

“Almost six months,” you answer.

“What took you so long, man?” Hondo asks Luca. “I thought you were with Deac on the whole ‘when you know, you know’ thing.”

“I am,” Luca replies. “And I’ve known for months, I was just waiting for the right time.”

“What made now the right time?” Chris adds.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” you say.

“Duke,” Luca answers.

You nod in understanding as the team waits for further explanation.

“Duke likes me more than him,” you explain, ignoring Luca’s grunt of disagreement. “Somehow, he managed to get in my car and go home with me without either of us noticing. When I brought him back the next day, he didn’t want to let me leave.”

“Sounds like someone trained him well,” Tan says.

“Yeah, how long did that trick take, Luca?” Street inquires. “And were the treats homemade or store-bought?”

“Look,” Luca interrupts, drawing attention back to him rather than Duke. “Now was the right time because things are getting serious, but I don’t feel like I left you out of anything.”

“Romantic,” Hondo mumbles.

“Gross,” Street adds, nodding.

“We’re not mad about the wait,” Deacon assures you and Luca. “And you’re right, we didn’t miss anything. Except maybe the story about Duke, that would’ve been nice to hear right after it happened.”

“If anything, I was robbed,” you point out. “I’ve been hearing stories about you guys without any reference or anything.”

“Apologize,” Chris demands.

“Sorry,” Luca says, though it sounds more like a question.

“We should do something,” Street proposes. “Like go out to dinner or something. Let you ask all the embarrassing questions about Luca you can think of.”

“Or…” you counter. “We could make Luca cook for us all.”

“Okay,” Luca interjects. “Either work, but I am standing right here.”

“There you are!”

You stiffen when you hear someone else enter the kitchen. Luca and his team look toward the door to greet Hicks, but you keep your eyes on Luca.

“This is our commander, Bob Hicks,” Luca tells you. “Hicks, this is-“

You turn toward Hicks but don’t raise your eyes to meet his. He says your name before Luca can, and your shoulders draw up toward your ears.

“You’ve met?” Hondo deduces.

“Yeah,” Hicks answers carefully. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You, too.” You look at Luca and mumble, “I need to go.”

Luca’s brows pinch, but he nods and watches you step past him and walk a wide path around Hicks. He looks at Hicks for several seconds, then rushes out of the kitchen to follow you. 20 David Squad watches your sudden departure, then looks to one another for answers, which none of them have.

Hicks steps toward the door you just exited, but Deacon raises his hand over Hicks’ chest and says, “I think you’ve done enough for now.”

“Anything you want to share, Commander?” Chris asks.

Hicks sighs before he turns toward the five SWAT officers now staring him down.

After you exit the building, you step to the side and take a few deep breaths. Things were going so well before Bob Hicks walked in, and now Luca’s team will probably never want to see you again. As if he needed to ruin one more thing in your life.

“Hey,” Luca says softly. “Can I touch you?”

You nod eagerly, raising your arms slightly so you can hug Luca. His hugs feel like home, his arms strong around your waist and his head by your shoulder, in the perfect position to whisper calming and loving words in your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against him.

“Don’t apologize,” he replies, rubbing one hand along your upper back. “It’s okay. Just keep breathing.”

With Luca, you don’t usually realize when you’re getting anxious, but Hicks has a unique effect on you.

“Luca,” you begin. When he nods and pulls back without removing his arms from around you, you admit, “Robert Hicks is my dad.”

“You said you were raised by a single mom,” Luca remembers.

“I was. My mom married… him, they had me, all that. But when I was little, so little I barely remember what he was like before, he divorced my mom. After it was finalized, he cut us off completely. We never heard from him again.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

You nod and wet your lips. “I knew I was losing my parents as a couple, but I didn’t expect to lose my dad completely.”

Luca hugs you again, and as your breathing and heart rate return to normal, you take a deep breath.

“I know I’m overreacting,” you say with a sad chuckle. “Sorry, Luca.”

“You’re not,” Luca promises. His hand raises to your shoulder as he brushes his fingers along the back of your neck. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re perfect,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Luca smiles before he kisses your forehead. His shift is nearly over, and he decides about what he’d do if he had to choose between Hicks and his job or you.

“Let me tell them that I’m heading out early and I’ll take you home. Maybe Duke can comfort you a little more,” he suggests.

“I’d like that. Can I… can I come in with you?”

“If you’re sure. No one in there is going to be mad at you for this.”

You nod and take Luca’s hand to follow him inside. His team is waiting just inside, and your father is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sorry for rushing out like that,” you tell them.

“No worries,” Hondo assures.

“I’d run like that if I thought I could get away with it,” Street says.

“You heading out?” Chris asks Luca.

“We are,” Luca answers. “But dinner is still on the table. Not literally, but…”

“We’ll do it soon,” Deacon replies. “And you,” he tells you, “are welcome here whenever you want. You are part of this family now, and if anyone has an issue with that, they can leave.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “All of you.”

Cracking an eye open, you see Jim sticking his head in the door with a concerned look on his face.

“M’okay.” Your voice is scratchy and not as strong-sounding as you would’ve hoped. “Everything under control out there?”

“Just about.” He swings the door shut behind him as he walks in, the rubber soles of his boots squeaking against the linoleum with each step. Stripping himself of his vest and tac belt, he throws them both into a pile along with yours before leaning against the locker and taking the bottle from your hand.

He wipes the remaining condensation off your skin with a careful hand before holding the metal bottle back against you. “Dude got you pretty good, didn’t he?”

You hum under your breath, turning to face him with your shoulder lent against the lockers. Not quite wanting to meet his eyes just yet, you hook your thumb into the loop of his trousers and tug him in closer to you. Though you aren’t looking at him, there’s no missing the grin that spreads across his face.

“Guess that pretty face of yours wasn’t the only thing that got hurt, hm?”

A soft shove to his hip sends him stumbling back a few steps, his chuckle bouncing off the walls like an echo in the quiet. You walk to the sinks, snagging a towel off the counter and dabbing at the trickles of water beginning to fall down your neck. With your eyes fixed firmly on the white enamel of the basin, you don’t see him walk up behind you - but you do feel his arm loop around your waist, and pull you back into him.

With a sigh, you toss the towel into the sink and look at him through the mirror. Equal measures concern and humor are visible on his face when he looks at you, his chin tucked into your neck.

“You sure you’re okay?”

In the quietness, your sniffle sounds a lot unsteadier than you’d like. You expect him to move, to let go of you, to say something, anything, but all Street does is hold you tighter.

Your breathing grows uneven as he wraps his other arm around you, turning you around till you’re facing him. He doesn’t make you look at him, simply letting you press your face into the crook of his neck while he rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as sobs wrack your body.

Time ticks by slowly. Though it’s really only a matter of minutes, it feels like hours before your breathing evens out. Jim doesn’t move, still holding you close to him while he presses kisses to the crown of your head. When you do pull back to wipe your eyes, he’s right there to brush the stray tears off your cheeks.

“It’s not just the punch, is it?” You do love Jim, you really do, but sometimes you wish he wasn’t so good at reading you. Anyone else would think that your bruised ego had you a little upset, but of course he would know that a prisoner transport gone awry wouldn’t be nearly enough to have you this upset. “Something else going on?”

He doesn’t need your half-hearted nod to know it to be true. Your hands sit at his waist, fistfulls of his shirt balled up in your fingers. Looking up at him with red-ringed eyes, you lean your face into his palm and try to calm your racing thoughts.

You’re pulling on Street’s heartstrings without even saying a word. Your stuttered breaths and teary eyes are proof that his suspicions over the last few days had been warranted, and that that left-hook from the mobster you and Deacon had been transferring into holding was just the cherry on top of a bigger situation.

“Let’s go home, baby.” He squeezes your hip, letting you catch your breath as he steps back. “That sound good?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is raspy, your jaw beginning the ache from the punch already. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

It’s not like he hasn’t had time to prepare. It’s been two hours - two hour and seventeen minutes, if anyone’s counting - since Paloma arrived back at the ranch, bringing with her armfuls of groceries and news of a visitor in town. One in a truck with American plates, wheels too clean to be a local, and the driver too nervous to be a returning visitor. The one who walked down the streets of Soliderada with curiosity in their eyes, and a shirt with a very familiar eagle motif on the back.

So, Hondo’s been expecting you. He’s had time to prepare - to change out of his dirtied shirt and jeans, to splash some water on his face in the hopes of waking himself up a little, and to hide the framed photo of you that he’d snagged from your dresser before he’d left, and had left at the foot of his new bed.

Hondo knew this was coming. But that doesn’t make it any easier to listen as the crunch of stones under tires grows nearer and nearer, and to watch as your truck drives up the narrow laneway and stops merely feet away from where he’s sat on the porch in wait.

__

Like any other day, the Mexican sun is beating down intensely. Hondo has to squint so he isn’t blinded, but it’s no use. The sun’s rays bounce right off the windshield, leaving him to sit and wait for you to make you move.

And you do. After a few seconds, the driver’s side door opens and out you step. And it’s just Hondo’s luck - you’re at the far side of the truck, meaning Hondo’s anticipation is left to grow while you make your way over.

You’re dressed down, faded jeans slung low on your hips and an old LAPD shirt of his hanging loosely on your shoulders. Hair pulled back out of your face, Hondo can see your smile clear as day. God, how he’s missed that smile.

“Hey there, stranger.”

You grin, and kick up a clod of dry earth with the toe of your boot. “Don’t think you get to call me a stranger when you’re the one who’d been off the grid for the last month baby.”

“Oh, damn.” Hondo makes a noise of mock hurt. “No messin’ around with you, huh?”

“No chance of that changing anytime soon.”

Hondo leans forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. “Y’know, usually when someone drops off the grid, it’s usually because they don’t wanna be disturbed.”

“Oh, is it now?” Hooking your thumbs into your belt loops, you lean back against the truck. “And who said I was here to see you? Maybe you were just a stop along the way.”

“So tell me, what was so important that you rode all the way down to Mexico for?”

With a grin, you turn and fish around in one of the shopping bags in the back of the truck. You pull out a bottle, a tall, thin-necked one that might as well have the word “trouble” scrawled across it in place of a brand name.

“I ran out. Decided it was worth the trip to get some of the good stuff for a change.” Holding it by the neck, you idly study the front of the bottle. The glass glitters in the sunlight, casting shadows and reflections across the ground. “You’ve always told me that it’s a bad idea to drink alone, so I figured while I was in the neighbourhood…”

Hondo can’t help but smile. You can be a pain in the ass, he knows that all too well, but Hell if he hasn’t missed you every day for it.

“And of course it’d be rude of me to let you drink alone.” Hondo rises from the step, brushing off his jeans. “Especially with you making such an effort and all.”

“Damn straight.” You lower your tone a little, losing the need for bravado the closer you get to him. “So, are you gonna invite me in or what?”

There’s no liquor in the world that could make Hondo feel the way he does when you hold your hand aloft for him to take, and the ease with which your hand slips into his. Like you were made for him, and him for you.

“I guess we’ve got some talking to do, hm?” You cock your head a little, looking at him with an expression that Hondo can’t quite read.