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thebiggerbear · 8 months

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Moving Forward Little By Little

Summary: You knew you shouldn't have let him in that first night he showed up with alcohol in hand to talk about Jamie. But you had and now your partner never fails to show up at your door. The bad thing is, you don't really want him to stop though you know you should.

Pairing: Bobby Reyes x Female!Reader; Bobby Reyes x Female!Detective!Reader; background Bensler if you squint

A/N: I saw 4x01 and I had so many feels that this just came out of nowhere. (Spoilers for 4x01 under the cut)

A/N continued (spoilers ahead): So I was sad when they killed Jamie off in the season 3 finale but the kiss from 4x01 just had me feeling all kinds of conflicting emotions. I've loved Rick since I saw him in Arrow and I was excited when he joined OC. I've loved his character as much as I loved Jamie's and Jet's (I was a little bit of a Jamie/Jet hopeful for a few minutes there). But then this kiss happened and well...this was dominating my mind and I just had to get it out so I could get back to my other open projects I've been working on. This is my first time writing for any of these characters or any Law and Order showverse. Hope it doesn't suck - I honestly just had a lot of feelings to get out.

I based a lot of things off of this interview with Ainsley and I saw a couple of theories floated around about a separation or divorce that the audience doesn't know about yet (while I'm still hopeful with these people, from what Ainsley says, I think she's very gently confirming that there may be infidelity going on). Personally, I love Reyes and I hope cheating is not the case when it comes to him (and I also don't want that to be Jet either) but I am also fascinated to see where the writers take this, especially after hearing Ainsley's interview, and see why they made this decision.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future Reyes or Law & Order: OC works.

Just a little disclaimer: I don't condone infidelity in any form. This is purely fictional and I'm just using this piece to explore how I was feeling after watching 4x01.

Warnings: implied sex; implied cheating/infidelity; mentions of character death; allusions to Fentanyl exposure & possible overdose; angst

Word Count: 5720

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip as you feel him begin to kiss that spot on your neck.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore,” you murmur.

“We weren’t,” he agrees in a whisper before lifting his head to kiss you.

You know this is wrong — it’s been wrong since he first showed up a few weeks back with single malt whiskey in hand and a hopeful expression. You both had talked about Jamie, fully for the first time since Jet left to go international, and you both drank way too much. Because when he leaned over to kiss you, you hadn’t stopped him and instead, you kissed him back. You also hadn’t stopped him from laying you down on the couch or stopped yourself from pulling at his shirt to get it off. The amount of guilt you felt the next day had prompted you to tell Reyes the next time you two had a moment alone at work that it would never happen again. He had quietly agreed, his brown eyes as haunted as you felt by what you both had done, and yet here you both are, tangled up in the sheets on your bed and with one another, you pretending that the strip of metal on his left hand doesn’t burn your skin as it passes over you or dig into your fingers as he tightens his grip on you in a passionate frenzy.

This is so beyond wrong and you’re not this person, but you’re finding it difficult to stop. Especially when he kisses you like you’re the last thing in the world still holding him together.

At work, you both continue to do your jobs. There is an unspoken agreement between you never to discuss any of this while you’re on the clock, especially where someone might overhear you.

When you’re off the clock, that’s a whole other story. The couple of times Bell or Stabler has taken the unit out for drinks after a tough day or to celebrate the successful completion of a case, you can feel Reyes’ eyes on you and you can only hope no one becomes the wiser. Especially when you say your goodbyes and head out and not even half an hour later, Reyes is at your door again.

There’s no more preamble between you now. No more protestations of ‘this is wrong’ or ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’. You simply grab him by his jacket and pull him inside, holding onto him as if he were the last thing in the world keeping you from falling apart.

You hate that you collapsed in front of your unit like you did, worrying them all. Now, here you are, being driven by Reyes to the ER on Stabler’s orders.

You know you should have protested but the throbbing pain in your head dictated otherwise at the time. Even now, you feel as if a fully-formed Greek goddess is about to spring forth from your right temple.

“Hold on, Y/L/N. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but you find that you can’t. You can’t even say anything when you feel him rubbing your upper arm.

“You’re going to be okay,” he assures you, though he also sounds like he might need some reassurance himself.

You sure hope he’s right. You’ve never felt anything quite like this and you never want to again. Reyes keeps talking to you and it’s his voice that you hold onto like a lifeline until he gets you to the hospital.

“Alright if I swing by later?”

You turn to look at Reyes, surprised, but you also arch a brow over at him in question. He doesn’t normally ask and he’s breaking the unspoken work rule considering you’re one hour into what is guaranteed to be a long ass shift.

He shrugs. “Just to check on you.” After a moment, he moves to stand next to you. “See how you’re doing.” His eyes are boring into you again. The haunted look is back.

“I’m right here in front of you, Reyes. You see exactly how I’m doing.” You might be fine and back at work, but that didn’t mean you felt up to whatever he was thinking for later on.

“I know that, but I also know that while you’re telling Bell and Stabler that you’re good to go, you’re still not a hundred percent.” He gives you a look heavy with meaning that you willfully ignore.

You frown at him. “I’m fine,” you insist, grabbing yourself a water bottle from the mini fridge. “I was medically cleared. You know that. You were there.”

“Maybe so.” He moves closer though you refuse to look up at him. “I’d still like to check on you, make sure you’re okay,” he murmurs. “That’s all. I can pick up some takeout and we can check out that new Godzilla show if you want.”

That prompts you to glance up at him, wondering how serious he is. The answer is clear in his eyes: he is. You nearly drop your bottle, especially when you notice just how close he is and just how he’s looking at you at this moment.

“What are you two doing?”

Your heads both snap in Stabler’s direction. He’s glancing back and forth between you, assessing what he’s just walked up on.

“She said her head’s still a little fuzzy,” Reyes smoothly lies and moves a few inches back. So smoothly if Stabler hadn’t been standing there, you may have flinched. Since when had your life become so complicated? Since when did lies and indiscretions make up who you are as a person? Other than the usual sting operations and UC work? Since you let him into your apartment that first night. You suppose lying has become second nature to both of you; it’s what makes you both so good at your jobs.

Stabler’s focus is now on you alone. “Y/L/N, is that true?”

You can swear you detect a double meaning that Stabler tacked onto the end of his question but perhaps it’s just your paranoia peeking through. Perhaps it’s your own self-recrimination tightening the figurative noose around your neck a little more.

Instead, you put your best front on and hope like hell that you can somehow fool Elliot Stabler. “Yeah. I just got a little dizzy there for a second but I’m good now.”

Stabler stares at you for a moment and then gives you a nod. He’s accepting the explanation…for now. “I’ll let Bell know. Odds are she’ll want you to go get checked out to be safe. Reyes, why don’t you get her back to the ER?”

Reyes moves to do just that when you firmly protest, “No. There’s no need for that. I’m fine. The doctor cleared me yesterday. He warned me that I would have a wicked hangover. That’s all this is.”

Stabler’s eyes narrow, studying you intently. You don’t look away or back down. Reyes’ quick thinking lie is not going to sideline you from the operation currently in play nor is it going to affect your job. After a moment, Stabler relents. “Alright. But if it gets any worse, you tell me or Sergeant Bell immediately. Don’t be a hero. You got me?” You give him a nod in agreement, relieved that you’re not being sent back to the hospital. He gives you one last look and turns on his heel, making his way to Bell’s office. Knowing him, he’s going to tell her anyway and you would be watched like a hawk for the rest of your shift by your superior.

You glare over at Reyes. “I had to say something,” he defends.

You don’t reply; instead, you turn and walk away. He still shows up that night, Chinese takeout in hand, and he stays true to his word. He holds you to him as you both watch Monarch on your television. In the back of your mind, you start to realize that while this has always been wrong, you both are beginning to cross a line into something that’s somehow even more wrong than what you were doing before. You refuse to look at the clock to see how late it’s getting or to think about how while he’s sitting here with you, his family is at home and his wife is sitting up and most likely wondering where he is. A part of you wants to ask him about it, tell him that this needs to end before anyone gets more hurt than they already will be, but the other part of you urges you to stay silent. Especially when you hear him laugh at a meme one of his friends texts him that he opens right in front of you. Somewhere around the end of episode 2, you aren’t able to keep your eyes open anymore and you relax against his shoulder.

You wake up the next morning on your bed with a blanket laid over you. You tiredly make your way into the living room to find the TV off and the takeout containers cleaned up but no Reyes. The only evidence he was here at all is in the hastily scribbled note left on your kitchen table: “Told Bell you were coming in late. Take the time. Rest. Call me when you’re up. - B” You don’t know why but something about it makes you smile as you turn the coffee pot on and head to your bathroom to take a shower so you can start your day.

You rush over with Bell to the EMT for the Naloxone, watching in horror as Reyes struggles to breathe after running into the lab to save Stabler. You snatch the first tube out of the EMT’s hand and run to him, thinking the entire time, Don’t you dare do this. You have a family, you son of a bitch. Don’t you dare do this to them. …don’t you do this to me.

You inject him and within moments, you notice he starts to breathe a little easier. You lay a hand on his shoulder, staring down at him with worry as you hear Bell helping Stabler nearby. You don’t pull away when Reyes discreetly covers your hand with his, giving you a nod of thanks as he comes back down.

You aren’t surprised when he shows up at your door late that night or that you let him in when he does. You both grab at each other desperately. It’s quick, frantic, and over before you know it. This time, as you gasp for air, you ask him if he can stay…just a little longer than he usually does on nights like these.

He gently runs his thumb along your jawline, his dark eyes staring into yours as he tries to catch his breath, and he nods. You pull him closer to you, shutting your eyes as he pants against your neck, and you thank whoever is listening that he’s okay. Your hands roam everywhere, subconsciously checking for hidden injuries but all they come back with is warmth from his skin, movements of his chest moving in and out as he breathes, alive. A small part of you acknowledges that you’re selfishly taking this moment from his family, his wife, who he most likely hasn’t seen yet since Bell insisted he let the ambulance take him straight to the ER to get checked out alongside Stabler. You can’t be too careful with Fentanyl, after all.

You let him stay another twenty minutes, holding each other as you breathe together, before you gently kick him out, insisting he needs to get home. He’s not happy that you give voice to the one thing neither of you have talked about since this whole thing started between you but he still leaves all the same. You feel torn as you see the door close behind him. While you wanted him to go, you still hate to watch him leave you.

Captain Benson is here to talk about something with Sergeant Bell and Stabler. You don’t know her too well, only having met her twice before, but she’s quickly become the equivalent of a legendary crusader in the NYPD. Dr. Vargas’ eyes have not gone back to their original size since she arrived and you wouldn’t be surprised if he asks her for an autograph before she leaves.

You were making your way back from the bathroom when you noticed Benson and Stabler having a quiet conversation in the hallway to your right. You have no idea what they’re discussing and you’re not caught off guard by their close proximity. They’re former partners and good friends. It’s only when you see Stabler reach out to take her hand in his, holding it in a way that makes your heart ache and her smile, that you realize that this is something more than their former partnership, more than close friendship, and it’s a very private moment you’re accidentally intruding upon. You and everyone else in the building are not meant to witness this.

Respecting their privacy and wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, you quickly avert your eyes and head back to your desk. Stabler emerges from the hallway about five minutes later, cool as a cucumber, but you do notice the faint hint of a smile that quickly disappears as he turns to climb the steps to Bell’s office.

You think back to that moment you just observed and your heart hurts even more. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Reyes typing away on his computer, and you try not to allow the guilt you feel to completely consume you.

“We can’t do this anymore,” you tell him the next time he shows up at your door, wearing a smile and carrying a pizza and a six-pack.

You watch as his smile fades and his brows furrow. “Why?”

“You know why,” you state. “You’re married and have a family, we work together…” You were going to list another reason or two, but you can’t. Which doesn’t really matter given that the first two you listed should be the ones with the most validity.

His jaw hardens as you knew it would. “We should talk.”

You shake your head, knowing where letting him in to talk will inevitably lead. “There’s nothing more to talk about, Reyes.” You say it firmly but gently right before you shut the door.

Before falling asleep that night, recalling what you had seen earlier this week, you wonder if Stabler had shown up at Benson’s door while his wife was still alive, would she have been able to say no and turn him away or would she have let him in knowing what would happen? Guessing what the answer is, the guilt inside you triples and continues to gnaw away at you as you drift off into sleep.

When Dr. Vargas gets up to use the bathroom and Bell is at 1PP, Reyes makes his move. Within seconds, he’s sitting on the edge of your desk, facing you.

“Reyes,” you warn. It’s been about a week since you finally had worked up the courage to put an end to whatever it was the two of you had been doing. Things had been awkward the first few days afterwards, but you both are professionals if nothing else.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

You give him a look. “No misunderstanding. I made myself pretty clear actually.”

“No, I mean I feel like I gotta clear something up here.”

You sigh and toss the folder you had been perusing onto your desk. “And what’s that?”

You watch as his jaw tightens but he looks right at you. “Tammy and I are separated.”

You feel horror wash you like a tidal wave and ice water run through your veins. No, he did not just say that. Oh God.

Reyes, seeing your reaction, holds out a placating hand. “We’ve been separated for a while. Well before…” He doesn’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to; he gestures between the two of you.

Relief radiates throughout your body only to be replaced with sudden anger. “What? Why did you never tell me that?” You ask through gritted teeth. This entire time he’s let you go on thinking that you were allowing a married man into your bed.

Shame laces his expression as well as pain. He should be ashamed, though it in no way rivals the amount of shame and guilt you feel. While you’re thankful that his wife hadn’t been sitting up at night wondering where her husband was when he’d been with you, you realize that you had let him walk through your door several times thinking she had. Oh God, what did that say about you?

“It happened, right after Jamie…” He swallows and lifts those haunted eyes up to meet yours. “It was hard, still is. I get my kids every other weekend. It’s not something I like to talk about or even think about. I kept my nose to the grindstone and just buried myself in work.”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” you hissed, getting to your feet, ready to leave. You don’t know if you’re more angry that he hadn’t told you before making a move on you, that you hadn’t asked when he did, or that he just made it clear that he’s been basically using you as a distraction for the pain or as a temporary cure for loneliness. Which makes you start to wonder… And you don’t like where that thought track is going.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, stopping you with the calling of your first name. You’re always referred to by your last name by everyone in this unit, even by him, even during this whole thing that you had going on, brief as it was. “That’s never what it was about.” As usual, he can read you like an open book. You really hate that sometimes. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yes, you should’ve. And what kills me is that when I said we shouldn’t let it happen again, you agreed with me. If you were already separated, then why? What would be the need to come up with a lie for Stabler on the fly?”

He doesn’t look away. “Like you said, work. You know just as well as I do that if Bell got wind of anything, if Stabler suspected, one of us would probably be immediately transferred out of here. And I know neither of us want that. We’ve both worked too hard to get here.”

You press your lips into a thin line but you realize he’s right. You don’t want to lose this job anymore than he does. You like the work you do and you’re good at it.

Reyes is suddenly next to you, a hand taking discreet purchase on your hip, and you feel an all too familiar burning sensation on your skin through your clothes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should’ve told you.”

Your jaw tightens. “You never stopped wearing your ring.”

That appears to catch him off guard and he releases you to glance down at the mentioned article. He studies it for a moment before lowering his hand and his eyes unapologetically meet yours. That tells you all you need to know. He may be separated from his wife but he still hopes for reconciliation. And while you can understand that, it still stings, possibly even more than the revelation that he’s let you go on thinking he was married this whole time and you never bothered to clarify whether he was or not.

You give him a curt nod. “Right.”

Dr. Vargas has come back from his bathroom break and you snatch your keys from your desk and grab at an excuse to get out of there, offering to make a coffee run despite a fresh pot having been made ten minutes prior. You don’t look in Reyes’ direction once the rest of the shift and he doesn’t try to talk to you again.

Two days later, Reyes walks into the squad room, no longer sporting his wedding ring. Bell and Stabler hardly seem surprised by it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a quick glimpse of the light strip of skin on his left hand when he places your breakfast order on your desk.

When you both are the only ones in the room while Bell meets with Vargas in her office, you don’t mention the missing wedding band and neither does he.

Stabler notices that you two aren’t as talkative these days. Of course Stabler notices. Nothing gets past him and you know that.

“Something going on that I should know about?” He asks you from the driver seat of the SUV he’s driving. Stabler had taken one look at you back at the office and told you to take a drive with him downtown to follow up on a case. You had a feeling he wanted to talk to you more than he wanted your company or assistance, but you went anyway.

You shake your head, keeping your gaze on the road ahead. “Nope. I’m good.”

He slowly nods. “And Reyes?”

You tamp down any surprise at his direct question. Stabler didn’t pull any punches; he always got right to the heart of the matter. You shouldn’t be surprised. You do wonder, though, if you’ll be transferred out of the unit soon. There’s no way he’s keeping this from Bell.

You shrug. “Wouldn’t know.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Stabler side-eye you back as the vehicle comes to a stop at a red light. You keep your gaze dead ahead, unwilling to give away more than you obviously already have.

It’s a tense silence between you but you’re not willing to break it.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to have Kathy back,” he murmurs.

You carefully turn to face him, seeing him reliving a memory for a moment.

“But she’s gone.” He then looks over at you. “I’ll always love her but she’s never coming back. And I know that I need to move on.”

You give him a nod, your brows furrowing slightly. You’re not exactly sure why he’s telling you this though you have a small inkling.

Sure enough, “There’s nothing wrong with trying to move on, Y/L/N. Jamie would have wanted that for you.”

It hits you like a square punch to your gut. You clench your jaw and you turn away from him, willing the tears that are building to go away. Memories start to pop up in your mind and you quickly push them away, all except one.

You and Jamie hadn’t had long; you weren’t exactly sure where he and Jet had stood the entire time you’d been in the unit until Jamie made it very clear to you a few weeks before he got shot. And then it hadn’t been too long after that that he…passed. Sure, everyone found out about you two the day he got shot and in the days that followed in the hospital, but it wasn’t something you talked about. At the funeral, you accepted Bell’s hug, Stabler’s steady hand on your shoulder, and Jet’s standing next to you in silent support as the other person who’d loved Jamie as much as she did. It was only Reyes who got to see your tears though.

You had stayed by the graveside long after they’d lowered his casket into the ground, long after everyone cleared out including his father and the priest, long after it started to rain, almost as if God was crying along with you. Arms came around you and you looked up to see Reyes, soaked through just like you were, and his eyes as wet as yours. He held onto you as you broke down and sobbed against his coat, never letting you go even after you’d cried yourself out. And you held onto him, afraid that once you let go, you’d shatter into a thousand pieces right there on the ground, next to the grave of the man who’d taken your heart with him.

You bite into the side of your cheek to keep the tears at bay and you stare out the windshield. You know Stabler’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier, and you’re pretty sure he knows that better than anyone, too. You remember back to that private moment between him and Benson in the hall of your building, the obvious closeness between them that flirts with the line of something more than partners, something more than friends. You know that and how it goes better than anyone.

From your peripherals, you notice Stabler still watching you. You mutter “Yeah” just to give him something to work with and he takes it, nodding and turning back to the road.

You think back to that moment by Jamie’s graveside with Reyes holding you together while you fell apart. The light turns green then and Stabler moves the car forward and you can’t help but think to yourself that if God really does send people signs, then the message the man next to you had delivered couldn’t have been clearer.

You visit Jamie on the weekend. It’s been a little bit since you’ve been here but thankfully, someone has been keeping up around the headstone.

You lay the flowers you brought down under his name and step back, sticking your hands into the pockets of your coat. It’s a nice day, the sun is out, but it’s still a bit chilly. You take a deep breath in preparation for what you’re about to say.

“I don’t know if the priest is right and you’re up there watching over us, but if you are, then you know I haven’t really been making the most sound decisions lately.” A tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. “Stabler says it’s okay to move on, that you would want that for me. I know he’s right, but Jamie, I don’t...” You press your lips together and shake your head, feeling the all-too familiar stinging in your eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I’m lost. The only time I don’t feel so lost is when…” You don’t dare finish that sentence, not to him, not to yourself. “I just don’t know,” you whisper, swallowing down the lump forming in your throat. “I do know that I miss you and I will miss you every day for the rest of my life.”

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring down at the grave marker of the man you’d loved, but it didn’t rain, the only tears you shed were silent ones, and you were alone the entire time, holding yourself up. Perhaps, in some weird way, someone might consider that progress.

A cup of coffee is placed on your desk, one that you didn’t order, prompting you to glance up to see Reyes giving you a small smile. He nods when you thank him and heads over to his station. It’s the first time he’s given you that familiar smile since you ended things between you. Everything had been strictly professional with you two since then.

As you stare at the cup, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Jamie had always been good about coming up with solutions on the fly to any issues you might be having. When you and Bell weren’t seeing eye to eye one day, the next morning he’d handed you a cup of coffee he’d picked up and urged you up the stairs to her office so you could give it to her and try to resolve things. He’d been good like that.

You surreptitiously glance over in Reyes’ direction and note his friendly grin as he speaks with Bell. You remove the lid from your coffee and take a sip, your smile staying intact. Thank you, Jamie.

A week and a half later, you hear a familiar knock on your door and you hesitate before you get up to open it. By now, you’ve had plenty of time to process and compartmentalize everything that happened between you. It was a tough pill to swallow to realize that yes, while he should’ve told you, you also should’ve asked. It had been even harder to accept that you hadn’t asked because a part of you — the selfish part — simply hadn’t wanted to. While technically you and Reyes hadn’t done anything wrong, you knew you had on some level and that caused some serious inner reflection on your part. You had even taken Bell’s advice from long ago and started seeing a grief counselor.

You confirm it’s Reyes through the peephole and swing the door open, seeing him standing there, nothing in hand, no hopeful expression, no smile, no puppy dog eyes — none of it. He’s there, as is, as he’d always been since before things got…complicated. The sight actually makes you relax a little.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey.”

An awkward moment of silence passes between you before he breaks it. “Can we talk?”

You cross your arms, biting your lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” His expression falls slightly and you add quickly, “At least not here.”

You grab your keys from near the door and slip your jacket on, seeing the glimmer of hope in his dark eyes. You lock up and turn back to him. “Let’s go.”

He nods and walks with you towards the elevator.

Your server arrives and places your food in between you. You give the guy a smile of thanks and you both begin to dig in. You had been starving so you dragged Reyes to your favorite Italian place a few blocks over for dinner and the talk he wanted to have.

“So…” You start in between mouthfuls of chicken.

It takes him a minute but he eventually answers with, “I should’ve told you.” You feel like he’s repeated that so often it should become his own personal mantra.

You shrug and take a sip of your wine, immediately responding with “I should’ve asked.” And that should become your own personal mantra. But it’s the truth and it’s an acknowledgement all in the same breath — an acknowledgement of what you both could have done better.

That’s the only time either of you refer to what had transpired between you. Instead, you ask him about his kids and he updates you on each one. You discuss work a little and how Dr. Vargas makes you both miss the hell out of Jet. You dance around the subject of Jamie, not because you don’t want to talk about him, but because that’s how things kicked off in the first place. And tonight is not about that.

Something that is made clear when he walks you back to your apartment. “Thanks for dinner,” you offer. “It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees. “I’m glad we went.” You notice he seems unsure about something but he covers it with a kind smile. “I’ll see you in the morning. Get some rest.”

He begins to walk back to the elevator when you call out, “Where the hell are you going, Reyes?”

He stops, his brows drawing together. “I thought you didn’t—”

“Yeah? Well, you thought wrong,” you tease. “We still have a season of monster television to watch and I am not watching it alone. So get your ass in here.” You unlock your door and step inside. When he doesn’t immediately follow, you stick your head back out, seeing him looking torn and it hits you why. “Unless you have plans to watch it elsewhere.”

Reyes gives you a smirk and steps towards you. “You know I would never sign up for an AppleTV account.”

“Uh huh.” You roll your eyes and let him follow you inside. “And I suppose the huge TV and epic sound system is the icing on the cake, too, right?” Something he and Jamie had helped you to install when you moved into this place. Quite a few movie nights had happened afterwards when Jamie insisted you had the better entertainment system out of the four of you. Jet’s was great for gaming, but yours was fantastic for movies and TV. And sporting events, you had added, smirking over at Jamie, knowing what he and Reyes were really after. They both tried to act like the thought hadn’t crossed their minds before you mentioned it but considering a big fight was taking place two weeks later, and you all were detectives, you knew they’d been planning game nights and fight nights at your place since they’d seen what you purchased.

“Doesn’t hurt,” Reyes teases back, not denying it, and it makes you snicker.

You both settle down to start Episode 3 of Monarch, sodas in hand and a bag of candy from your secret stash between you. This time, you both add commentary, make each other laugh, and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. When he carefully winds an arm around your shoulders, you smile to yourself and lay your head on his chest. You don’t even mind it when he caresses your shoulder with his thumb or he presses a soft kiss to your head.

You don’t know exactly where this is going to lead or if it will even lead anywhere at all. You do know that for right now, you’re going to enjoy this sci-fi show you’re watching with the guy whose embrace seems capable of keeping you from falling apart most days. Not everything is magically solved between you and Reyes, and everything is still up in the air for him, but right now you’re not going to think about any of that. Right now you’re only going to think about the four hundred feet tall monster on your screen, the comforting weight of Reyes’ arm around you, and how soothing the sound of his heartbeat underneath your ear is. This might not be what Stabler had in mind when he said what he said to you, but for you right now, it’s pretty damn close.