#ree writes

(But that wasn't right either. Gramps had a heart big enough for two, for him and Kaigaku. For the love they couldn’t find in each other, to be the family Gramps had always wanted. He was still sorry about that, in the quietest parts of the night.)

Like a crackle of lightning, the thought had appeared to him. Tanijrou had only just come around the corner calling his name, and his traitorous brain had said, “I love him”.

Just like that.

No preamble, no warning. A thought unable to hide under the mountains of things that jumbling around in Zenitsu’s head. A thought that could only be true.

Dread attached itself to the pit of his stomach. Sticking along until it was clogging his lungs and his breathing technique could almost seem null. It must have shown on his face when Tanjirou skidded to a halt before him. His brows crept together in worry.

He was concerned; Zenitsu could hear it before the words could even tumble from Tanjirou’s mouth. Like his legs before a mission, Zenitsu’s smile wobbled across his face. He waved a hand with a laugh.

“What’s that face for, huh? I’ve just got an upset stomach. I trained on a full belly,” he had said.

With a huff, cheeks puffed out, Tanjirou scolded him as usual. If anything, his stomach wrung itself tighter.

Zenitsu laughed it off anyway. He welcomed his friend home from his mission.

After a minute or two, Tanjirou’s worry seemed to dissipate. His friend patted him on the shoulder, that same unbreakable grin of his big and wide across his face. He wished him a speedy recovery, thanked him for the welcome and said he looked forward to eating together again that night.

From the porch, the little girls from the Butterfly Estate were eagerly welcoming him back, and like he had come, Tanjirou was gone again.

And Zenitsu wanted to cry.

Not just the panicked, whiny ones he had been known for.

The ones he hadn’t had to cry in quite a while. The ones he’d done he’d walk for days and days through the town he’d live in, dirty, and his shoes falling apart. Back when he barely belonged to anyone. Back when he had been inevitably left behind again before Gramps had come into his life.

A love lost before it had even begun.

But wasn’t that only so typical? Zenitsu and the heart on his sleeve, falling for people who might as well have been millions of miles away even as they shone bright in his face. He could reach and reach never even graze the trail they blaze.d

And now, Zenitsu supposed, everything made sense after his revelation. The way Tanjirou could calm him down so quickly, invigorate him even faster, keep him going even when Zenitsu just wanted to whine and whine and give up.

Tanjirou was kind. He was steadfast. But he knew - he knew, okay? - that even where the sun shines brightest, there were still places it couldn’t touch. Not really.

He wondered, stupidly, for a brief moment what it would be like to be what Tanjirou orbited instead of the other way around.

How warm it must be to have him shining so close. A line that seemed as though only Zenitsu had crossed with his clinginess...his cowardice before. Two bodies as one in all ways but carnal. Perverted as he may be on the odd given day, Zenitsu was a boy seeking love most of all. A hand to hold and a heart other than his own to protect.

Silently, terribly, he envied Inosuke and Genya. On the odd day...maybe even, just a bit, Nezuko-chan, too. And all he was left with was no-good feelings, more miserable than he had been before. Who was he to limit who Tanjirou could throw his love at just because Zenitsu was needy?

In the quiet of the night air, Zenitsu sighed. To his side, a creak made his ears perk up. The jingle of bells and earrings. Zenitsu held his breath.

“Zenitsu.”

Ah. Tanjirou. He was frowning, looking unsure of how to start. Zenitsu waited. Tanjirou had come to him after all.

“Are you okay?”

Zenitsu blinked at that. Had he been obvious? He supposed he has. He’d never been a good faker. Tanjirou wasn’t the only bad liar around. Still, he smiled even as he curdled on the inside.

“Training didn’t kill me, so I think I’m fine.”

Tanjirou was still frowning. “It’s just - lately, you’ve been giving off a scent of - of sadness. Zenitsu, are you okay?”

Ah. He forgot. He really forgot how perceptive that guy could be with that nose of his. Zenitsu swallowed quietly, trying to turn over all the possible things he could say in his mind. How did he even cover his own ass when Tanjirou could probably sniff out the truth?

“You can tell me. We’re friends. I don’t want you to be sad. Are you getting discouraged with training? Did someone say something to you? Is Inosuke eating too much of your dinner?” Ah. The way his heart sped up at the other boy’s name. Tanjirou. He could be so obvious. “I know Genya was a little mean to you, should I talk to him?” That boy, really. What a big heart he had. “Zenitsu...I’m not used to you being this way.”

Always with the shouldering, that one. It was good he was strong. He could carry so much. He didn’t need to carry this, too, Zenitsu decided.

“I told you before, didn’t I!” Zenitsu started, voice loud, trying to seem normal. Tanjirou startled, blinking quickly. “I’m weak, you know! This is nothing new. So, don’t worry too much! I’m the same as always.”

By the look that crossed Tanjirou’s face, he didn’t agree.

“That can’t be true. Zenitsu is strong. I was too busy fighting those demon siblings, but you were impressive! It was the first time I really saw you fight, much less your breathing style. Zenitsu, you’re amazing. You’re not weak at all. And not just with fighting! I wish you could see that, too.”

Ah. Normally such praise would have made him giddy. He would be giggling, his face in his hands trying to squirm under the sincerity of his words. But now - now Zenitsu’s mouth was sour. It felt like salt was pricking at every open sore across his skin.

Tanjirou worried a little harder. What kind of face was he making? What scent?

“Zenitsu -” Tanjirou faltered. “Zenitsu, I can’t know if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s nothing you can fix,” Zenitsu said hastily. Tanjirou looked stricken, like Zenitsu had told him they were no longer friends. “It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Is it that thing you were worrying about before?”

“Ah. No. This one is a little different. But it’s the same either way. I have to come to terms with what I have to do.”

“And they have to be done alone?” Tanjirou pressed.

Zenitsu ducked his head. “One of them for sure, at least.” The most important thing. The only thing that could make his feelings for Tanjirou ever take a backseat.

Gramps. Out of everyone, and anyone, he had chosen him . Kept at him. If he didn’t resolve this...how could he repay him? How could he let him move on? No, this was definitely a one person job.

“And the other?”

“Ah,” Zenitsu starts. He’s cycling between shame and embarrassment now. How one boy can stir up so much in him is unfathomable. “I think so, yes. Sorry, Tanjirou.”

He smiled at him. Tried, anyway. “You’ve got your own battles, don’t you? These are mine.”

“Zenitsu. Not all battles are meant to be fought alone. Let people help you.”

And how could anyone help? Could they make Tanjirou love him the way he wanted? Take his feelings away and bottle them tight? Or maybe they could wake Zenitsu up, give him the power to let go. Gramps might have been able to. But Gramps...

“I don’t think these are things anyone can help me with.”

“You say that, but your scent says something different. You want that more than anything! Zenitsu -”

“Tanjirou,” He begged, and he could hear the creak in his voice. The way he was cracking. “Please.”

Tanjirou’s mouth snapped shut then. He was unhappy, and he was definitely not about to be knocked down by this, Zenitsu knew. He was obnoxiously, endearingly determined like that. But Tanjirou had a way of respecting people’s wishes, too. A series of expressions warred across his face. Zenitsu knew he was trying to decide if he should overstep or not.

Tanjirou sighed.

“I’m here, okay? I’m here for you. You’re my friend and you’re important to me. So is Kanao-san, Inosuke, Genya, and Nezuko. We’re here. Don’t,” Tanjirou trailed off. “Don’t do more than you need to do on your own.”

He looked up at Zenitsu then, red eyes blazing. Zenitsu wondered if his face might have mirrored his eyes. It felt hot, like tiny bursting suns across his cheeks.

Did love have a scent? Could the traitorous way his body hummed and burned be anymore obvious?

“Promise me that you’ll reach out if you become overwhelmed. I’ll come running. I promise you that.”

Against his better judgement, Zenitsu promised. Then, when he was alone again, he cried. Cried and cried and cried and wished Gramps was around to scold him or hit him or rub his back and cheer him on. Just a bit, just a moment.

In the quiet of the night, alone and just barely even able to leave his mouth, Zenitsu whispered, “I love you” to a figure no longer there.

Kim wonders how this little road trip would’ve gone back then. Would their hands have been entwined? Would they be flirting and joking and teasing each other ever so slightly making them want to get to the hotel as soon as possible? Would they be a little unprofessional and make their trip slightly longer by stopping on the country roads and stretching their legs, just to get a little more time together?

When Voight told them that they were the ones to be sent upstate to go interrogate someone picked up by another town’s pd who fits their perp description, would they have smiled? Share a secret look between them and get excited for the time together?

None of the awkward look they both gave, or how they both clamoured quickly to try and talk Voight out of it, ignoring the intrigued looks from the rest of their team. And when Voight inevitably told them to shut up and stop complaining, they’d have been none of the awkward silence in the car, none of the tense small talk they stumbled through before eventually putting the radio on a station neither really likes so there was just something they could use as an excuse not to talk.

The radio is playing some song from the sixties, and it’s reminding Kim of something from her childhood. For a moment, she forgets about everything, about how she wishes she was anywhere but here, about how the car feels too small or her annoyance at the traffic jam they spent two hours stuck in.

Instead, she just smiles at the memory of being at her grandparents in the summer, and it makes her heart all fuzzy and warm—because her grandparents, to Kim, is what love is—and she’s half way through opening her mouth to tell Hailey about it, the need to share this happy memory with the woman she—no—with Hailey surging, when she remembers everything and she snaps her mouth shut, turning back to looking out the window at the flat, boring fields.

Kim is all ready to forget her near-blunder; that she nearly broke the heavy silence hanging over them, and the unspoken rule that neither one of them wants to have eye contact, let alone sharing cute stories from childhood. But Voight isn’t the only one in the unit who’s observant, because Hailey—Hailey, being the amazing detective she is, Hailey, being the amazing human she is, for not being how Kim would be if she was driving, knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead—clocks onto Kim’s open and then decidedly not open mouth.

“This is ridiculous.” Hailey snaps, taking one hand off the wheel so she can deftly turn off the radio, making the car descend into deafening silence.

Hailey is not one to snap, only ever at criminals but this isn’t that Hailey, isn’t interrogating Hailey. It’s more like an agitated mother on a road trip snapping at her rambunctious children and Kim hates herself for the imagery it immediately brings to her mind.

Of Hailey, a few years older than now, blonde hair tied up, wedding ring on her finger, driving three unruly children to their holiday. Three children with a mixture of looks, of brunette and blonde, or blue eyes and brown, of a strong Greek look or an Italian one.

It’s the kind of imagery that got her into this mess; the kind of imagery that makes her heart race and her breath quicken, the kind of imagery that makes her yearn for a future that looks like that, a future of two Mrs Uptons, or Burgess’, or maybe even a new surname that’s just theirs, and a handful of kids who may not even be all related by blood but are so clearly family.

The kind of imagery Kim hates that her heart still craves, even after six weeks of this mess between then, of six weeks of awkward glances and stumbling words. Even weeks after it was made clear this kind of future was not in the cards for them.

“What were you about to say?” Hailey asks, her tone laced with frustration, a few long seconds later. Kim wonders if she was meant to say something after Hailey shut off the radio, if the expectation is that she’d say something, anything, even if it was just to tell Hailey to shut up. That Hailey took so long to continue after snapping because she was waiting for Kim to say something, to yell or show any verbal acknowledgement of the blonde beside her, until it became obvious Kim had no intention to.

“Nothing.” Kim knows that’s an annoying response, even before Hailey sighed. It’s petty, but as much as Kim said it because she has no intention in letting Hailey know she wants to share warm fuzzy memories with her, she also said it because she knows it’s annoying. Her heart is a mess, in shambles and confused, and Kim has quick learnt that when it comes to Hailey, apparently she likes being a petty person.

“Kim.” Hailey sounds so exasperated and the idyllic family future springs back into Kim’s mind, and Kim knows that she’s going to be even more stubborn, trying to shut those thoughts out of her head as much as possible.

“This is so ridiculous,” Hailey repeats herself. Her voice is tired, and Kim wonders if she looked at her—which she’s stubbornly not, keeping her eyes fixated out of the window—she’d see the tiredness on Hailey’s face. The thought makes her heart pang, because Hailey’s face should only be smiling, or contorted in pleasure, or even that frankly hot intimidating expression she tends to pull in interrogations, but never tired.

“It’s been six weeks. We need to talk, get passed this.” Hailey pauses, clearly looking for a response in Kim, but Kim refuses to give her one. “Kim, we shouldn’t have to listen to music that we both hate just because we’re having to partner up at work. Before all this, we used to be friends, didn’t we? Can’t we just go back to that?”

Friends.

The word stings more than Kim would want it to. Even more as Kim realises, as soon as that word drops from Hailey’s—(kissable)—lips and it feels like a bucket of cold water has been chucked over her, that she was starting to wonder if she should give in to this silent tug of war, the silent battle of wills between them of acting like they care less than the other. That she was starting to wonder if she should just lay everything out, and hope to god that Hailey listens.

But then Hailey said friends and Kim is reminded once more of what got them into this mess, that they want different things. That there’s no point in telling Hailey how much she loves her, that she wants to spend the rest of her life with her, that Hailey is her sun, that Kim is the moon to her earth. Because Hailey doesn’t want a relationship like that, not now, and Kim’s wondering if ever, at least not with her. There’s no point in Kim embarrassing herself further, not when Hailey wants to go back to being friends.

Not when Kim decidedly does not want to be her friend.

“Kim? We can still be friends, right?” Hailey’s voice sounds uncharacteristically quiet, reminiscent of their late night chats after they fucked each other’s brains out, and all Kim wants to do is pull her closer. But Hailey then lightly touches her arm to get her attention, and it’s like an electric shock to the system and Kim’s practically jumping out of her skin, pulling far away from Hailey as the car allows.

Kim pretends she doesn’t see the flash of hurt on Hailey’s face at that.

“Sure,” Kim manages to get out after it’s clearly getting too long after Hailey has spoke again. Saying the one syllable word feels like eating ground glass, and the way her voice sounds almost strangled Kim knows that Hailey must have doubts about the sincerity, but the blonde gives her a half-hearted smile nevertheless.

The smile shoots little sharp knives into her heart, but Kim pretends that she doesn’t feel like she’s dying. She’s already told the blonde she loves her and got nothing in return, she wants to maintain some dignity.

Being friends is harder than just saying so, something they quickly realise only a few minutes after agreeing to try.

Neither seemed to really know what they wanted to say to each other, words being stumbled over each other again. Normally, when making friends again once more with someone—not that Kim had done so, really, since she was a kid—you focus on catching up the other on parts of your life they had missed, but Kim wasn’t inclined to want to catch Hailey up, not ready to talk to her like there isn’t an aching gap in her heart and by the way Hailey didn’t as well, Kim got that she didn’t fancy doing so either. The reasons for why most likely differing from her own, since Hailey was the one who proposed they go back to being friends, so it’s not like her heart has been ripped out of her chest like Kim’s has.

The radio was soon put back on, and that’s the way the rest of the journey to the medium-small sized Illinois town remained. It’s late by the time they get there, and they only have time for an introduction to the pd detectives assigned to show them around. Detectives Moran and Jameson are perfectly nice people, and they clearly have a good, smooth running partnership—it reminds Kim of Hailey’s with Jay, a thought that made her feel all bitter and sour inside, like any time Kim sees them two together does—and Kim feels bad that she doesn’t feel much like herself, ending the evening a lot sooner than she would ordinarily.

They had given them a quick tour of their precinct, and shown them to the motel they’ll be staying out—a one bedroom with twin beds, naturally, because the world hates her—and then took them out for a meal and some wine at a mid-level restaurant a walk away from the motel.

The detectives are good company, and Kim at times found herself getting lost in the present, in their jokes and stories, forgetting about the awkwardness she felt at the blonde sitting next to her—sitting way too close, although even if Hailey was on the other side of the room it still would feel too close—Kim will give them that.

But the time ticked on, and Kim became more and more aware that she was going to have to try and sleep in a room where Hailey lays three feet away, and try not to think about how much she wishes that they’d be pushing the beds together, and curling up close, so close that she wouldn’t know where she ended and Hailey began, so close that their respective smells would mix together; a sweet smell that reminds Kim of love and safety, of being home. And she knew that she needed to leave the restaurant, get some cool air on her too-hot skin before having to sleep.

Kim waited until Hailey was in the middle of telling Moran and Jameson about an arrest she made back in robbery and homicide to stand up, gulping down the rest of her wine, and politely excused herself.

“Oh, I’ll come with you,” Hailey offered, as if she wasn’t in the middle of a story. The lighting in the restaurant made her eyes seem even more blue, and Kim nearly just agreed because of the beauty of them. Luckily she managed to swallow down her agreement, pulling on a too-tense smile on her face.

“That’s okay. Finish. I’ll see you later—if I’m still awake, friend.” It’s petty, Kim knows, to add on the friend, but she could see Hailey gearing up to protest and somehow Kim just knew saying that would make her pause.

Kim wondered if it’s because Hailey knows that the word is like twisting a knife in her own heart, and a part of her wishes she does know how much she’s hurting, just to be seen, to be understood, even if a larger part of her very much does not want the humiliation of the woman who doesn’t love her back to know how desperate she is for her.

Sleeping, Kim is finding, however, is still incredibly hard to do even without the presence of the blonde in the room.

The smell of Hailey’s perfume still lingers in the air, and it reminds Kim of how her apartment no longer smells like that, that all traces of Hailey has faded, that she doesn’t even have any of her clothes still lying around the house because after everything, Kim packed it all up in a box and left it outside Hailey’s apartment in a fit to make herself appear less desperate, less needy after her—second—impromptu love confession.

And as if that wasn’t enough to ensure sleep wouldn’t be coming, Kim’s mind was racing about the implications of Hailey taking the bed closest to the door. Logically, Kim knows it’s just because Hailey entered first, or maybe just out of politeness. But Kim can’t get the image of Hailey almost meaningfully setting her bag down on the bed, claiming it as hers, that it was almost protective, that she wanted the bed closest to the door as of to protect Kim from any intruders.

As unrestful it makes her mind, it’s a better thought than the one that Hailey wanted the bed closest to the door so that she could get away from Kim as soon as possible.

Really, Kim should’ve expected this. That sleep would be too far away to grasp, that her mind would feel alert, too alert. Even when she’s in her own bed, sleep fails to come to her, the events that led to her having an empty space beside her replaying in her head over and over.

It does so now, too, the memories feeling even stronger with the smell of Hailey lingering in the air. It makes the moment Kim slept with Adam, that stupid fucking moment, and Hailey walking in to see them in bed together feel more real; the scent of Hailey had still lingered in her room then too.

Kim knows that what she did, sleeping with Adam, wasn’t cheating. They weren’t exclusive, they weren’t even together. They were just fucking. That’s what they agreed on when it started, that they were just fuck buddies, friends with benefits, stress relief. And who cares if the lines got blurred, if they were spending more time going out to eat, just the two of them—never called dates, though—or that there was days they’d have no sex and just cuddle and sleep, that there was basically no day—night—they didn’t spend apart. They weren’t exclusive, and they weren’t dating.

That was made perfectly clear, when Hailey was cuddled up in her arms, and Kim was feeling so, so happy and so, so in love that she let those words tumble from her lips. I love you.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey completely froze, and then when she was tearing herself from Kim’s arms, getting up from her bed and hastily pulling on her clothes, stumbling out some excuse about early starts and how she should go home.

That was made perfectly clear when Kim tried to stop her, tried to remind her that they can drive in together, and that it doesn’t matter if Hailey doesn’t say it back.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey snapped back, saying that it does matter, because Kim had clearly forgotten the rules, that they were just fucking and that’s that and they never should’ve started sleeping over.

There is no reason why Kim should feel as if sleeping with Adam was like cheating on Hailey, not after that reminder. The one shittiness should just be that it happened the very next night, and even then, if they were just fucking why should it matter if Kim sleeps with someone else?

Honestly, Kim should only feel bad about using Adam like that. For drinking with him that Friday night, and inviting him back to hers. For using him to make herself feel better, using him to make herself feel like she doesn’t love Hailey, that she doesn’t want to be with her, and she doesn’t care about the words Hailey snapped back at her, or the way Hailey steadfastly avoided her all day—and for using him to mentally say fuck you to Hailey, for using him to get back at the jealousy Kim felt at seeing Hailey joke and laugh—flirt—with Jay that whole day, all while she felt like she was dying.

And she does, feel bad. Adam was a whole gentleman about the whole thing, didn’t pry or get upset or make anything more awkward for them when Hailey walked into Kim’s bedroom that Saturday morning, holding an apology coffee from their favourite place. He didn’t question their excuses that Hailey’s clearly hurt face was just because they had plans that day, and Kim had forgotten and had deftly gotten the fuck out of her apartment, clearly sensing the two needed to talk. He had only sent a text to her later that day, asking if she wants to talk about it, and when she replied with no he respected that.

The fact that Kim can have such a good friendship with her ex-fiancé should give her hope that one day Hailey and her can be friends, but it doesn’t, because there’s nothing Kim hates more then the thought of just being Hailey’s friend, not when she wants so much more, much more than she ever—if she is honest—wanted with Adam.

It’s Kim’s fault, really. She shouldn’t have told Hailey that she loves her, and she definitely shouldn’t have repeated it that Saturday morning, telling Hailey that she has all the rights to go fuck someone else after Hailey left her after she told her how she felt, and that she wasn’t wrong of her to expect that maybe, just maybe, that might change things.

Kim should’ve just let them continue with their comfortable routine of ignoring what was growing between them—or rather, ignoring what Kim thought was growing, because clearly it was only on her side. And no matter Kim wants to say that they should just go back to that, they can’t, not now. The words are like toothpaste, once it’s out there, there’s no getting it back in.

Their only options now are either being together or being friends. And Hailey’s made it clear that the former isn’t on the table, but the latter makes Kim feel sick to her stomach. The thought of only having Hailey in her life as a friend is not one she can stomach, that she’d rather not have her in it at all because the thought of acting like her heart isn’t breaking, that she isn’t in love with her friend, is too much for Kim to bear.

“Kim? Kim are you awake?” Hailey’s whisper comes not too long after Kim hears the room’s door open. Her eyes are shut, and have been ever since she got into the stiff bed, and so she doesn’t know how long it’s been since she left the restaurant. It doesn’t feel like long, but it also feels like it was forever. Time has no meaning whenever Hailey is concerned for her.

Despite being awake, Kim keeps her eyes closed and pretends not to be. She doesn’t know what Hailey wants, but she doesn’t intend on finding out. She tries to keep her breathing, all too aware that this is a woman with chronic insomnia, and so definitely has seen her sleep before.

“I just wanted to say—oh nevermind.” Hailey goes to say, almost as if she knows that Kim wouldn’t respond even if she is awake, and when she cuts herself off, Kim nearly opens her eyes and turns to face her, immediately wanting to know what she was going to say.

But curiosity killed the cat, and Kim’s already taken too many hits to her pride, so she remains still, keeping up the sleep rouse. All while knowing that there’s now one more thing that’ll be keeping her up.

“Voight gave us the all clear to stay. Told us to stay as long as we need, no hurry. Ordered us, really. He doesn’t want to potentially jeopardize this case if he’s our guy, and thinks we should ride it out, alone, to continue building the rapport.” Kim walks back into their motel room, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She tries to take the bitterness at Voight’s answer out of her voice, tries to make it sound not like as if she’s just received the worst news ever, but she knows she failed miserably.

Upon spending one day here, the only day they were meant to stay, they quickly realised that their possible man is going to take his sweet time cracking, and so they realised they would need to ask Voight for an extension. Kim had volunteered to call him, and there was a not small part of her that hoped that he’d tell them to come home. That he’d go with them taking the guy back to Chicago, so they can continue with the rest of the unit.

But no. No, Voight just had to have faith in them.

Kim is really beginning to think there’s credence in her theory that Voight likes to think up new and inventive ways to punish them for dragging personal issues until the unit.

She just really hopes that he hasn’t guessed all the details of what happened between Hailey and her. That he—shiver—hasn’t figured out that they were sleeping together. The thought of Voight having any inclination of her sex life... It’s one that makes Kim cringe inside and get the urge to never be able look him in the eye again.

“I thought he’d say that.” Hailey isn’t one to gloat, or be smug—not maliciously, anyway, since Kim definitely knows she can be smug. Like when she manages to give Kim the best orgasms of her life, or can make her feel so needy and desperate for her with just one look—but Kim can’t help hear a smug tone to her words. It’s in her imagination, but it doesn’t make Kim feel any less irrationally annoyed.

“Yeah, well I guess that’s why you’re the detective,” Kim’s words are petty, dry in a way that’s too uncalled for, she knows this, even as she says it. She’s busing herself sorting her bed out in anticipation for sleep, saying the words so casually, so casually passive aggressive in a way Kim cringes at inside. If not because Hailey really doesn’t deserve it—she’s been very mature, and has made an effort to be more friendly today after their agreement to be friends, and it’s not her fault she doesn’t return Kim’s feelings—but because it reveals too much about how Kim’s really feeling then she wants to let Hailey know.

But Kim feels so messy inside, a jumble of emotions coursing through her all hours of the day, only amplified whenever the blonde is near her, or in her eyeshot. It’s making her more irritable, more bitter, more jealous.

Especially after their agreement to be friends. Kim doesn’t know why, it should make it better that at least she has an answer to how Hailey wishes to go forward, even if it’s not the same as what she wants, but Kim’s never claimed to be an expert in emotions—especially her own.

And it’s making her hear tones in Hailey’s voice that is uncharacteristically her, and sending her mind into overdrive. Like earlier that day, when Hailey introduced her to the perp as officer Kim Burgess, all Kim heard was an emphasis on her title, in direct comparison to Detectives Upton, Moran and Jameson.

All Kim heard was the reminder of one of the many probable reasons to why Hailey doesn’t love her back, why Kim’s only good enough to be a friend.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Hailey’s expression is one of confusion, and she looks so innocent, so precious, that Kim nearly forgets why she feels so upset.

“Nothing.” Kim says too fast to sound believable. “Just pointing out a fact. You’re the detective.”

The addition didn’t make Kim sound any less bothered, and while it felt satisfying at first to make the quip—even if it was a response to a transgression made up in her head—Kim’s frantically panicking inside now at Hailey realising her insecurities, not wanting to appear that vulnerable to the woman who rejected her.

Kim spots a Chinese takeout menu sitting on the bedside table between their respective beds. She grabs it. “This seem good for dinner?”

“Kim,” Hailey begins slowly. “We’ve already eaten dinner. Like right before you phoned Voight.”

Shit. Cursing herself, Kim wonders if she could believably feign early on-set dementia in order to get out of this with some dignity.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this. Sit.” Hailey fixes her a look often given to eyewitnesses who are hiding important details. She sits down on her bed, indicating Kim to do the same on hers. The last thing Kim wants to do is sit and talk but she can’t not obey when Hailey’s looking at her like that.

Yesterday’s dream of the future family she wants them to have pops back into her mind, this time picturing Hailey sitting down the children, a broken vase or bowl swept up, telling them she’s not mad, she just wants to talk, to discuss playing safely or something domestic like that.

She really, really needs to get a grip on herself.

“Do we have a problem?” Hailey asks and Kim has to bite back the scoff, because problem barely begins to describe what Kim feels, and because it’s less of a we and more just like I, because Hailey is clearly coping with this whole thing so much more easier—which makes sense, since she hasn’t lost anything, not like Kim who lost everything she thought she was gaining.

“I’m just tired.” She offers as an excuse. Kim wanted to continue to deny that there wasn’t something up, but it’s clearly not going to fly, so instead of digging in her heels, she tries to act like it’s just grumpiness.

Hailey’s expression twists a little, and Kim can see her gearing up to prod some more—Hailey had gotten really good at reading her, even if it isn’t obvious that there’s something deeper beneath the surface going on.

“Really. Pay me no mind, I’m just tired. Sorry for being a bit grumpy, it’s just the tiredness.” Kim continues, throwing in an apology before giving Hailey a smile she did not feel. She rises from her bed, making motions to get her bed clothes, ready to continue to brushing off this and hoping Hailey will go along.

“Kim,” Hailey then catches her arm, having also rose. “Talk to me. We agreed to be friends, remember?”

No such luck.

“Yes. We did.” Her voice is clipped. A look then passes across Hailey’s face, like something is dawning on her. Kim panics, her heart thumping too fast in her chest, realising she’s played her cards too open, that Hailey’s going to realise that Kim doesn’t want to be her friend, that Kim wants more.

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t want to be your friend,” The words drop from Kim’s mouth before she can even think them through, her mind shutting down and going into survival mode. Hailey tilts her head slightly, and Kim’s positive that she edges a little closer to her. Something in the back of her mind is going wrong, wrong, wrong like it’s caught onto something the rest of her hasn’t.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Hailey begins and Kim thinks that surely her heart rate has reached a new record, with how fast it’s beating, like it’s trying to break through her rib cage. “We had fun, right? You know... Before. And I miss you, I miss that fun. I miss my.. my best friend. And I was thinking, the sex part, you know, that isn’t off the table for me. We can still do that. Nothing’s changed there, for me. If you still want me.”

Hailey looks so vulnerable, so open, her tone so soft. She’s so very rarely vulnerable and there’s a part of Kim that is so proud of Hailey for being so, especially when she can tell she was feeling awkward expressing all that, but that part of her is buried under all her emotions, all her hurt feelings, and the ringing in her ears she got after Hailey said best friend, like that’s obviously all Kim can ever be.

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to be your best friend, or your friend—or anything. We’re not friends, we’re just co-workers, nothing more. And honestly I’d be fine even if we weren’t even that.” Kim’s tone is so much more harsh than she wanted it to be, sounding even more harsh in contrast to Hailey’s soft tone, the words biting coldly.

Hurt covers Hailey’s fault, unable to be hidden, although it doesn’t seem like Hailey even tried, something that just makes Kim feel even worse, making her want to take back the words.

But she doesn’t, focusing on keeping a wall up between them, knowing that she’ll be saving them a world of hurt. Kim can’t be what Hailey wants, she can’t be just a friend, and Hailey can’t be what Kim wants and it’s unfair of them to ask that of each other.

“Right.” The vulnerability disappears, Hailey’s expression going back neutral. Kim ignores the way her heart aches at that, just as much as she ignores the hurt that still lingers in Hailey’s eyes. “Co-workers it is.”

Somehow, this hurt even more than the deafening silence left in Kim’s apartment after Hailey head tailed out of it six weeks ago.

It’s silent in the car when Kim is driving them home three days later.

Hailey is slumped, asleep, in the passenger seat next to her, blonde hair lying half across her face, moving slightly every time she lets out a breath.

It’s the closest they’ve been in days, yet they couldn’t feel further apart.

They’ve spent the past three days standing at least four feet apart at all times, becoming alert and tense whenever one of them accidentally walks by too close. Hailey, naturally, is handling it better, appearing a lot less rattled at Kim’s mere presence that she is, but there’s been an ever-present hurt look in the back of her eyes whenever she ever even glances in Kim’s direction.

It is a miracle, really, that they even managed to get their guy to crack. It shouldn’t surprise Kim, both of them are always cool and in the headspace of just a cop whenever they step foot into an interrogation room, but Kim’s never felt quite like this before.

Or maybe it’s because Kim wishes they weren’t going home, that their man isn’t being processed for prison, that they hadn’t completed what they came here for. If you told her three days ago that she’d be dreading going home, she would never have believed that she could be feeling anything but relief.

But home sounds anything but relieving now.

To be in her own home, where the memories of Hailey lingers in every room. To be around the people who know them best, most of which are highly trained cops with a knack for reading people, and have to act like everything is fine. To being in a place where there’s others who love Hailey, others who can be her friend, and get to bask in the light that is Hailey Upton while Kim watches on because of herself. To be in a place she’s not, even after what’s happened, the person who knows Hailey best, that the last thing they had, the threadbare connection that even if they’re not good, they’re still a team in a sea of strangers.

Being away from home, it felt like hell until home was back on the table.

Away from home, they could be how they are without being scrutinized. They weren’t around people who know them, knows how they usually are. If people could tell that something’s wrong between them, at least they had no right to ask about the details, to get them to open up, to fix things.

Although depending what Jameson pulled her aside to say before they left, Kim’s not too sure if that’s true.

In the four days they had spent in the town, they had gotten to know Moran and Jameson quite well. Like that they don’t only work well together as partners, but that they are together. That they are happy together. Jameson explained how their captain is only allowing them to remain partners because they do good work, but that as soon as they’re married, they’ll have to be split and Kim watched how her eyes lit up at saying that, smiling affectionately at her boyfriend, showing that not only are they happy, but they are both anticipating marriage happening somewhere down the line.

Kim can’t lie and say it didn’t make her jealous.

Hailey had gotten to get to know them better—well, at least, Jameson—however. Kim blames the fact that after the co-worker talk, she had been ending the day and going back to the motel before Hailey, and Hailey had been agreeing to see some of the town’s sights with Moran and Jameson after work.

This also makes Kim feel jealous, even if she knows it’s her fault.

She just hadn’t realised how well they had been getting to know each other, not until Jameson pulled her to one side when Hailey was helping Moran with the paperwork.

“I know this is none of my business,” Jameson had started. “But I’ve noticed things about you and Upton. And well, Hailey’s said some things to me when I’ve asked and I’m not gonna presume to know everything or go get anything—I don’t really know you, after all. But I’ve been where you are. I know Johnny and I, we seem so good now, but we had such a messy start. He was freshly divorced, I had only ever had crappy relationships and my mother isn’t exactly a great role model when it comes them, and we were both so emotionally out of our depth. And I just want to say that all this is doing is wasting time being miserable when you could be happy, and it’s so much better just being open and honest, even if it seems scary or you have no idea how.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting out but it doesn’t apply here.” Kim played dumb, really not wanting to bond with this detective over this, and definitely not wanting to admit that there’s something going on and that she’s miserable.

Jameson just gave her a look which clearly said everything she thought about that.

“I’m just saying that honesty is the best policy for a reason. And communication, it works. I can tell that you—both of you—you’ve got your own personal issues, that you don’t know how to be vulnerable or to let yourself be vulnerable, but one person who used to be like that to another, please try.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried that. Didn’t work.” Kim slipped, but she couldn’t help it, not when Jameson was telling her to do something she already did—when she told Hailey that she loves her and was met with silence.

Jameson gave her another look.

“Did you? Truly? I’m just basing this on what I’ve seen and what little Hailey’s said... I think it’s worth a try, being truly open. The worst case scenario is you get rejected, but something tells me that won’t be the outcome.”

Now, as Kim drives home, Jameson’s words is all she can think of.

Kim knows, knows, that talking isn’t something she’s particularly great at. She was getting better at it, and before everything, her and Hailey was good at it, just as long as they didn’t address what Kim thought was the elephant in the room. And that... That is what gave her the confidence to say that love confession, even if the words just slipped out.

But then when Hailey left, and refused to answer any of her texts or calls, Kim knows a wall went up in her heart. That maybe at the first bump, at the first stumble, Kim returned back to burying all her feelings down, trying to protect herself.

That since then she’s been in survival mode, unable to deal with the hurt she felt, unable to be able to consider going to Hailey and talking through all of this.

For the first time since Hailey said they were just fucking, Kim thinks about what she initially thought when Hailey froze. That she saw it through Hailey’s eyes, a woman Kim knows can be scared of commitment, a woman Kim knows learnt at an early age to never be vulnerable. That she understood that Kim saying the l-word might startle Hailey, might startle that flight or fight reaction in her, that Hailey might feel obligated to say it back and knowing she can’t, she flees.

Kim thinks about how she initially went to assure Hailey, telling her it didn’t matter, that she didn’t have to say it back. All she’s been thinking since is about how in that moment she was panicking to maintain some dignity, but she was also thinking about how to reassure Hailey, to calm the woman she loves from her own panic, from her trauma response.

Somewhere, between then and now, that had gotten lost.

It’s like a lightbulb in Kim’s head, and suddenly she feels very embarrassed, humbled. She remembers everything that’s happened since with a clearer eye, and she sees everything so much less clouded by her own hurt.

Hailey saying she misses her best friend. Misses. That it wasn’t about the title Kim is referred to, friend or not, it was about Hailey telling her that she misses her, that her life has a missing piece without Kim in it.

Hailey asking if they can be friends, that she was asking that if nothing else, can’t they at least try to be friends.

Hailey saying if you still want me. Literally asking Kim if she’s important to her, if she wants her in her life—if she wants her perhaps in the way Kim actually does want her.

Hailey avoiding her all day after the I love you. She can see it clearly now as Hailey not knowing how to proceed, knowing that she’s processing things and maybe even regretting how she handled it the night before.

Hailey coming around that Saturday, an apology coffee in her hand.

Oh god, she is such an idiot.

Somehow Kim had neglected to ever really wonder why Hailey came around, or what she was starting to say as she walked into her bedroom. But Kim wonders now, remembering the casual look Hailey had donned, in the clothes Kim had mentioned is the easiest for them to get off, remembering how Hailey had done her hair in that messy sort of way she did on their not-dates, the smile on her lips, and the nerves in her eyes.

Hailey... Hailey had come around to fix things. Not to repair a friendship but maybe... Maybe to express her own mutual feelings, even if it wasn’t as direct or open as the way Kim did the night before.

And Kim had fucked Adam.

It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been poured over her, and Kim looks at the blonde sleeping beside her, wanting to wake her up, to apologize and apologize over and over, realising just how much she had fucked this up. That she could’ve had it all, just like she wanted, that she wasn’t picturing things and instead she threw it away because she couldn’t see past her own hurt.

She doesn’t wake up Hailey. For one, she’s driving and should concentrate on that, lest she gets them into an accident just because she couldn’t wait. And for two, Kim knows she can’t botch this up, that she needs to think this through, think through her apology, how to phrase it, to make sure Hailey understands that she gets it, and that she’s truly sorry.

Kim is just grateful that Hailey decided to sleep most of the way home, knowing that she couldn’t keep in her new realisations in her head if she was awake the whole time. It’s hard enough when Hailey stirs right as they approach Chicago, waking up. Even more hard when Hailey goes to smile at her, but then stops herself, probably remembering the words Kim so, so regrets ever saying.

It’s late, and Voight told them that they get the day off tomorrow for their good work, so Kim drops Hailey off at her apartment. It’s agony watching Hailey barely look at her, getting her bag from the boot silently and just saying a quiet thank you. Kim can see how much Hailey’s own hurt is dripping off her, and all she wants to do is get out of the car and kiss her.

It’s even more hard to watch Hailey retreat to her apartment building, watching her walk away from her. It feels as if Hailey’s taken her heart with her, and with every step the ache in Kim’s chest grows.

Even waiting until tomorrow to apologize feels impossible.

And when Kim realises half way on her way to her own apartment that the car she’s driving is Hailey’s, that they had forgotten that, she knows she can’t wait any longer. She’s got to fix things, now, and she’s got a good reason for driving back.

Kim stops, briefly, parked in a store’s car park. There she gets out of the car, letting the cool late march air wash over her, before digging out her phone and dialling.

“Kim?” Adam answers almost straight away.

“Hey. Sorry for calling, I need to ask you something.” Kim pauses, pressing her free hand against Hailey’s car, feeling the cool metal beneath it. Adam waits patiently. “That Saturday, after we, you know. And Hailey came in. What... Okay just go with me here, what do you think is going on?”

Adam laughs.

“Well, Kev owes me five bucks. He thought you’d go to him for advice.”

“I’m not asking for advice. I just want to know what you think.” Kim immediately gets defensive, only spurring on the chuckle Adam gives her.

“Kim, everyone knows you two are sleeping together. Okay so I didn’t know until that Saturday—yes, Kevin and Jay teased the fuck out of me for that—but it wasn’t hard to figure out. And everyone pretty much knows you two had a lover’s spat—which, Kim, you know I love sex, but next time talk to your girlfriend instead of sleeping with me, I’ve never felt so awkward in my life—and everyone wants you two to sort it out. And if you want my advice—,”

“I’m good,” Kim cuts him off, but light heartedly. “I just wanted to know, there’s definitely something there, between us.”

“Kim, aliens on Mars knows there’s something there. It’s so obvious, the looks you give each other.”

“Thank you—just thanks. And I’m sorry, for using you.”

After her conversation with Adam, Kim feels a hundred pounds lighter, a bounce in her step. She needed to get confirmation from someone else, that she isn’t seeing things, that she isn’t imagining feelings between them. She’s hurt Hailey enough, she can’t go in and apologize if she’s yet again got the wrong end of the stick.

She makes one last detour, going into the store quickly to grab some flowers. They’re only the cheap stuff, the fancier shops shut by now, but they’re still pretty—of course, nowhere near as pretty as Hailey is. But then again nothing is.

Kim is a bundle of nerves when she knocks at Hailey’s door. The time it take Hailey to answer feels like an eternity and her nerves only build while waiting. But then she opens the door and Kim knows, knows, that this is exactly what she needs to do.

“Kim?” Hailey looks shocked and confused to see her standing there, and she only gets more confused when she sees the flowers in Kim’s hands.

“It was your car. The car we took—it was yours.” As for starts to romantic speeches go, this could be better, especially as Kim hands the car keys to a confused looking Hailey.

“You could’ve driven it home.” Hailey says.

“I didn’t want to. I wanted... I wanted to see you. Hailey, I fucked up. I don’t want you to be just a co-worker, I want so much more. I want you. And I miss you too, like so much. And I’m so sorry that I slept with Adam and I pushed you away and saying—saying everything I said. And I know this probably can’t just make this all better, but I get it, I get you. Everything, how you reacted and everything. I was blinded by my own hurt, and I’m sorry I didn’t take into account your own trauma. But I got you these flowers, and I, uh, I won’t tell you I love you again because I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I will ask you if you could kindly please give me another chance and maybe go on a date with me?” Kim’s heart is beating so, so fast in her chest that she wouldn’t be surprised if Hailey’s neighbours could hear it.

There’s the longest pause between Kim finishing and Hailey responding and it feels like forever, and all that could go wrong flashes through her mind, but then Hailey smiles.

Hailey smiles, and it’s like the sun comes back into Kim’s life, lighting up her world.

“I’m sorry too, for how I reacted. I didn’t mean it, we were not just fucking, not to me anyway. I... I wanted to ask you out but I was so scared and then when you said that, I just panicked. There’s so much bad memories tied up around in those words and I didn’t know how to handle it, not coming from you. I’m sorry. And I’d love to go on a date.” Hailey’s words makes Kim’s heart skip a beat.

“But first,” Hailey then says, before stepping towards her, squishing the flowers still in Kim’s hands as she kisses her. It’s gentle, soft but so perfect. She pulls back, blue eyes shining.

“And if you’re not going to say it, I will.” Hailey takes a deep breath. “I love you,”

Hailey goes in for another kiss, and this time Kim drops the flowers on to the floor, wanting, needing, her hands to be free as she wraps her arms around her, pulling her tight against her, hand in her hair and deepens the kiss.

For the first time in six weeks, Kim finally feels alive. It’s not long before the two, still interlocked, retreat into the apartment, the flowers long forgotten outside the door.

Kim knows this is what she could’ve had six weeks ago, on that Saturday, had she not slept with Adam. She would’ve thought that she would have wanted a milestone like this to happen in her own place, in her own home, but the reality is that nowhere is home, no one place is home.

He didn’t even notice when everyone had left. How had he not noticed? How had Alice?

Well, considering the party hadn’t ended until 3 AM, he could guess how she hadn’t. Between the liquor and the multiple rounds of cut-throat Mario Kart, Robert wasn’t surprised he’d passed out. He was just surprised none of the noise had kept him up. He was probably growing too used to the Z-Team that he felt this comfortable just passing out.

Speaking of, Alice was still waiting for him to give an answer. Awkwardly he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked at her, a little taken aback by how different she looked out of uniform.

She had her hair in a bonnet and regular circle rimmed glasses that showed her dark brown eyes. She wore a big T-shirt with a faded Hello Kitty on the front and a pair of shorts. She looked comfy…and cute. It was more of her face than he normally saw. He kind of appreciated the chance to.

“Your ass never left, huh,” She said, rolling her eyes. “I hope you showered before you came over, Bobertoson.”

He usually just showered at SDN since the water was actually hot.

“And?” Alice prompted again. “You getting up any time soon?”

Robert shrugged, just to be annoy her a little. “Chase threw away my lawn chair. Think I’m good for now.” Or until she got fed up with him and tried to temporary blind him.

“Nuh uh. It’s my day off. Keep your sad bitch boy vibes to yourself.” Alice made to walk off before she seemed to stop herself. She looked at him, her face steely and careful. “You stayin’?”

Robert shrugged. “You letting me?”

“Don’t make me blind you.”

“Sure. Yeah. You aren’t making me do something weird are you?”

Alice smiled, crinkling the mole by her mouth.

“Are you?”

-0-

It wasn’t weird but it wasn’t something Robert would have done. After making him pay for breakfast delivery, worth more than he paid for food in a week at that, she’d bullied him into a spare t-shirt with a charmander on the front.

It was too big for either of them, but the singed off ends gave Robert an idea of who it might belong to. At least she’d only made him change shirts. He’d been forced to take his shoes off but not his socks. She’d meanly offered him a pair of her boyshorts in place of his jeans but he got the feeling it was a trick question. He rolled with it and let her boss him around the place.

Most of the previous night had been cleaned up, but any stray mess (Sonar’s shedding, any wet spots Herm had tried to clean up but still left behind) were his responsibility. Alice had gone to throwing a ton of pillows onto the couch. Then dragging a few blankets with her. When the food came, she made him lay them out on the low coffee table and share them evenly.

A few times when she passed by, she ate his bacon and slapped his hands when he tried to fight back. Half an hour later had them both on the couch, squished in between every pillow she owned. She’d slapped a puppy hairband on him and a sheet mask before trapping him into a marathon of some anime Robert had never heard of. There was a guy on the screen with white hair and black shades that got her excited when he showed up on screen.

They got through three episodes before Robert felt himself realize he wasn’t going anywhere. It was far more comfortable than he thought it would be.

“Why didn’t you kick me out?” Robert said as they waited for Netflix to queue up the next episode.

“Chad’s got three dates lined up this weekend. Rather be getting dick than binge-watching,” She said, stealing his french toast.

“Ouch,” Robert said, not really meaning it. Robert could barely handle one date these days. He had no idea how Flambae was managing to juggle three. He seemed to love it, anyway. “So my boring ass wasn’t your first choice?”

Alice shrugged. “You’re easy to ignore when you’re around. Can actually hear myself think.”

Robert hummed. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement but he could kind of read between the lines. Or at least, he hoped he was. It kind of sounded like she didn’t want to be alone. It kind of seemed like, he kind of might have finally been able to do something for her.

He’d taken all her self-sufficiency to kind of throw her to the wayside in the months he’d become a dispatcher. But a flaming jab in his shoulder during lunch had started to make him think otherwise. It probably should have shamed him more that he’d been “playing favorites”. Whatever could be said about Flambae’s asshole-ish way of caring, he did care and he was not about to let his best friend be glossed over for Robert’s dumb ass.

He’d had to buy another company shirt to replace the singed one but well. Alice was a tough nut to crack. Despite the time spent together, Robert realized he barely knew anything about her. That slip about her not having a dad was about as much as he’d learned. She was bold about what she said but she never let out more than she wanted to.

One drunken bar crawl (and brawl) lamenting about dead beat dads had softened her up about him a bit, but she still was reluctant to be too openly emotional where he could react. It would take time and maybe a little hubris where she was concerned.

He and Alice weren’t friends but it was easy to see why Flambae enjoyed her company. It felt like being allowed a secret part of her that she hid behind a carefully curated image.

He got it, though. In a less lustrous way, he’d done the same. Her life was often up on some screen or other. She mostly picked and chose what was there but being famous rarely afforded true solitude. Mecha Man was always in the spotlight. It was the first time Robert had just been…Robert. He wondered if it was the same for her.

How many people knew Alice as she was and not just the idea she presented. Shit, he was about to bring the mood down if he went down this road. He accidentally took a sip of her latte as he asked her what the hell the characters were even doing.

One season later, Alice and he had somehow managed to slouch between the pillow barriers to comment loudly at the screen together. A particularly good fight scene had her clawing at his hand in excitement. Robert kept his hand in place the whole time.

“You know, I got this PR box from this makeup brand,” Alice said casually as she stopped Netflix from skipping the ending credits. “They want me to test out the shades and shit.”