#daez

Through it all, Maria Baez was steady. She was sharp, loyal, and stubborn enough to go toe-to-toe with him when he needed it. She knew when to push and when to just let him sit in silence. And she never once let him fall too far.

It started small—the little things that crept into his awareness when he least expected it. The way her laughter could break tension after a grueling case. The way she’d show up with his favorite coffee when she knew he hadn’t slept. The way she was patient with his sons, treating them like family whenever she stopped by for Sunday dinner.

He noticed, and slowly, those moments started to matter more than he wanted to admit.

One night, after wrapping up a particularly rough investigation, Danny drove Maria home. The case had stirred old memories, and she could see the weight in his eyes.

“You want to come up for a bit?” she asked as they reached her building. “I’ve got leftover arroz con pollo. And you look like you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Danny raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re saying I look bad, Baez?”

“I’m saying you look hungry,” she shot back with a grin.

He followed her upstairs, and soon the quiet hum of her apartment wrapped around him. The warmth, the faint smell of spices in the air—it felt… safe. She handed him a plate, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was sitting at a table that wasn’t weighed down by ghosts.

They ate, they laughed, and when silence settled between them, it wasn’t heavy. It was comfortable.

“Danny,” Maria said softly after a while, “you don’t always have to be strong, you know. Not with me.”

Her words cut through his defenses. He looked at her, his chest tightening with the truth he’d been avoiding. “If I’m honest, Baez… you’re the one who’s been keeping me strong all these years.”

The air shifted. Maria’s breath caught, and she met his eyes—really met them. The tension that had lingered between them for years, unspoken but always there, suddenly felt undeniable.

He reached across the table, his hand brushing hers. “I don’t want to mess this up. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something more.”

Maria’s lips curved into the softest smile, her hand turning so her fingers threaded through his. “Danny… I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

He let out a shaky laugh, relief and joy mingling. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers—gentle at first, but full of everything he hadn’t been able to say. She kissed him back, steady and sure, grounding him the way she always had.

When they finally pulled apart, she teased, her voice husky with emotion, “So… what happens now, partner?”

Danny smiled, the kind of smile that felt brand new. “Now? Now I take you to Sunday dinner and watch the family fall in love with you too.”

Maria laughed, shaking her head. “Oh boy. I think I can handle your family, Reagan. The real question is—can they handle me?”

Danny chuckled, kissing her hand. “They’ll love you. Just like I do.”