#svu

Being a sergeant came with new responsibilities. Responsibilities that kept Munch from taking the exam in the first place. Damn Meldrick. 

He had been visiting New York that weekend, so of course Munch bought him a drink, maybe six. Then got plastered enough to bet him that he could pass the sergeant’s exam hangover and the only reason he didn’t take it the first time was because he didn’t want the responsibility. 

Hell, he still didn’t want the responsibility but he wasn’t exactly getting younger and he felt that maybe a change was needed. So he took the damn exam hangover, got the $200 from Meldrick, and forgot about the whole thing. Until Cragen was put on leave. Then the responsibility smacked him in the face. 

Everyone was mad about it. Especially Fin. Not you though. He had told you that morning he took it, hangover as hell. You laughed, kissed his cheek, and wished him good luck. He says that’s why he passed and blames you for his new role. It always makes you laugh. 

Now isn’t any different. “Do we have to go?” He whines as he ties his tie. The rest of his sergeant uniform has been steamed and on his body. Cragen had a charity event to attend. It was to network and get more money to SVU so they could get new equipment. Then Cragen got the flu and since Munch is now a sergeant, he is to attend the event now. 

“I don’t have to go anywhere.” You say from the bathroom out of view. “You do.” You say teasingly. 

Munch groans at that. “You wouldn’t let me suffer in that horrible place alone.” 

You laugh softly and walk out the bathroom. “No, I wouldn't. But sometimes I wish I could because I really don’t want to go either.” Munch doesn’t reply. Instead he’s left staring at you in awe. His burning eyes cause you to blush, even after all this time. You turn your head, suddenly shy under your husband’s gaze. “Quit looking at me like that.” You mutter with embarrassment. 

Munch manages to snap out of his daze and walk toward you with two long strides. His hands go to your waist and pull you into him. Your hand instinctively goes around his neck and lazily lies on his shoulders. 

“You look beautiful.” He says softly. 

Somehow your blush deepens. “Shut up.” You mutter before giving him a small, sweet kiss. 

Munch laughs into the kiss. The kiss doesn’t stay small and sweet for long. Munch puts his hand on the small of your back, practically lifting you into him as he deepens the kiss. His kiss is like a drug. It makes you forget everything for a moment. 

His mouth disconnects from yours and moves down your jaw as you back into the dresser. His mouth goes down and you lean back to give him the access. Right before he gets to your chest you remember why you’re all dressed up.

You lightly push him away with a small laugh. He goes without a fight but not without a whimper in protest. “Nope. We have to go to this damn event.” You say firmly and look at the mirror to your makeup. 

He comes up behind you. His hand goes back to your waist and leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Buzz kill,” he says jokingly. 

***

The event is just as boring as you thought it would be. Despite being introverted, Munch knows how to talk. You find it charming. But after 2 hours of it and his fake smile you want him to go on one of his rants about how all this is a scam. 

It’s mainly men here but there are some women. Mainly as plus ones, but also as higher ranks. Still, they are talking to other higher ranks which leaves you to talk to the wives and girlfriends. It’s not terrible, but then the conversation steers into complaining about the long hours and busy nights without their partners. It’s hard to relate to them when you and Munch almost always have the same shifts. 

So you wander over to the bar when Munch gets tugged away for the billionth time. Throwing you an apologetic look that you wave off with a smile. 

“I’ll have a whiskey sour and whatever the lady wants.” A man, around mid to late 40s says next to you.

The bartender looks at you. “Oh. Uh, cosmo,” you say unsure. You glance behind you to try and spot Munch but he is nowhere to be found. 

“You look way too beautiful to be at the bar alone.” The man says. 

You refrain from rolling your eyes and force a smile. “Thank you. I’m just waiting for my husband.” You try to make it very clear. By the look on his face, he couldn’t care less. 

“What kind of husband leaves their wife at a bar when she looks this good?” He leans in closer. 

You back away slightly. “The kind that is doing his job.” 

“Oh come on. You don’t believe that. A man will always swear his job is demanding. It never really is. I would know. I’m a cop. Trust me, those late nights aren’t for work. He’s probably out with a woman.” he says with so much certainty. 

“You’re so right.” You say sweetly. It makes him smirk. “We spend those late nights together since I’m also a detective and we work together.” His smirk dropped. “Gee, I should’ve known he was with a woman. Hell, he’s with two since our co-worker is also a woman. Oh my gosh, and when our lawyer is with us it’s three. So scandalous.” You say sarcastically. 

Munch takes that moment to make an appearance. He places a hand on the small of your back. “Sorry, honey, but they wouldn’t let up.” He says softly and kisses the side of your head. 

“How come you didn’t tell me you were seeing two women?” You say with fake anger. 

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “I- What?” That’s the man’s breaking point. He scoffs angrily then leaves. Munch finally realized there was a man at all. He blinks back his confusion. “What happened?” 

“He said you were seeing a woman on those late nights.” You say with amusement.

“He was flirting with you?” He asks and looks back at the man. There is a hint of something in his voice. His jaw clenches slightly. 

It makes your smirk widen. “John Munch, are you jealous?” 

His head jerks back to you. “Me? Jealous? No way.” He says unconvincingly. 

You point your finger at him. “You are jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous. I’m…” His voice trails as he can’t come up with a word for how he’s feeling. 

You let out a laugh. “Jealous,” you fill in for him. “Of what? Him having my attention?” 

He looks away, somewhat shamefully. 

Your smirk turns into a smile. You grab his tie and pull him closer to you while you continue to sit on the chair. “You have nothing to be jealous about. Because believe me when I say you’ve had all my attention since I saw you in this uniform.” 

That gets him to smile. His hand goes to your shoulder and his thumbs strokes it gently. “That so?” He whispers. 

“Mhm.” You hum. 

Soft music starts playing, and he grabs your hand gently. “Dance with me?” 

“Always.” He helps you out of the chair then leads you over to the dance floor. 

You both keep a nice rhythm with the music. Your arms are over his shoulders as they play with the back of his hair. You admire how he looks. “Have I ever mentioned that I love the gray?” You ask in a teasing and serious tone. 

He laughs. You love making him laugh. You don’t think he does it enough. “A couple of times,” he says. 

His answer falls on deaf eyes as you look at him. Suddenly reminded of just how much you love him. How the thought of ever dancing with someone else makes you sick. How he looks when he laughs. “You’re beautiful.” You say, almost mimicking his words from earlier exactly.