#franzvonsuppe

You laugh along as Mitch makes a joke about the "dyke" you had in to interview earlier, even Janet joining in as they mocked her lousy attempt to hit on you. She hadn't been serious, obviously, and everyone in the office had noted how you'd laughed with the young woman instead of being disgusted, how you hadn't seemed to mind that someone of the same gender seemed to think that you might be interested.

You needed to be more careful around people with good gaydars, people like that woman who were used to being able to spot those who were safe, those who wouldn't tell on them. You'd have to try to be more convincingly appalled, it was still illegal here, after all. You thought about your succession of unsuccessful but very public straight relationships and realised you were probably safe, unless you got caught with a girl's tongue in your mouth, anyway. Unless someone found out you were in love with your boss. You can't stop yourself from glancing into the office with that thought, seeing her tiny figure slumped forward in her chair, squinting at something on her computer screen. You're still looking when Janet startles you out of your reverie, inviting you to the pub. She accepts your offer to take over the responsibility of inviting Gill, and you're lightly knocking on her open door before you know it, and there's no time to prepare yourself against the onslaught of being in her presence, against the butterflies in your tummy and the huge grin that threatened to work it's way into your face.

"Everyone's heading to the pub, you coming?" You manage, hoping your face doesn't betray you, glancing to your right and realising that everyone's already gone, that it's just you two left.

"Is that your way of inviting me?" she asks with a smirk, and you're laughing too much and too nervously to go unnoticed.

"Should I try again?" You joke, and then before you know it you're mock bowing and making a fool out of yourself. "Boss, I would be most honoured if you would accompany me to the nearest drinking establishment." You're laughing as she laughs, even though you have no idea whether she's laughing /at/ you or /with/ you, and the butterflies return full force, though you're sure they never left.

"I suppose, as you asked so nicely, I can deign to join you." You're both smiling as she puts on her coat, and you're trying to store this memory in your mind forever, to imprint it there to be reviewed in your worst days, a thing to treasure. She looks up and catches you looking, not for the first time, and you quickly cough and turn away, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. She's a detective for god's sake, and you aren't exactly making this hard for her. If this was a case it'd be solved in a second, a clumsy murder with your fingerprints all over the murder weapon that you left at the scene.

"Rachel," she starts, and you know that this can't be good because she used your first name. You spin to face her slowly, knowing your expression is giving you away, that it always gives you away. You'd think you'd have got better at this by now, considering the consequences. In this moment Gill has the power to wreck your and that fact lingers in the air between you. Somehow you know she won't.

"How long have you had a crush on me?"

"Since I started," you sigh, and shrug helplessly, staring at the floor intensely. "Please, I know, I know it's wrong or whatever I just..." you trailed off. "I've tried not to be this way." You barely notice her step forward, you're gazing too intently at your shoes.

"I know, trust me, I know," she sighed. "I wondered if you were going to say anything, admit it was anything other than hero worship. But I noticed the look on your face today when they were talking about that witness earlier."

"What do you mean?" you panicked, worried someone else had noticed.

"Don't worry, none of those idiots would ever notice. I just would have thought that you would have realised I'm not exactly straight, I am friends with Julie, who is about the worst kept secret in the Police, and we don't call you Sherlock for nothing."

"You were married," you stuttered, and she stepped closer, smiling.

"So were you."

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face, even though you're in a Police station with your DCI thinking very illegal thoughts about the aforementioned DCI.

You're still grinning when she gets in close, pulling your chin down so she can press her lips against yours, and you don't drop the smile, even when she tightens her hand around the back of your neck, pulling lightly at the short hairs at the base of your skull.

You're both flushed when she pulls away and your grin is still out in full force, even as gives you a look that tells you to calm the fuck down.

"Now we have to go to the pub before someone notices, and you need to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face."

You laugh and agree and she rolls her eyes. "Why on earth I thought this was a good idea," she mutters, but doesn't resist as you pull her to you and kiss her again, marvelling at how small she is in your arms, how this was even better than you'd ever imagined, one of her hands tugging at your hair and the other gripping your waist.