Summary: 5 times intelligence noticed yours and Jay's 'friendship' and 1 time they figured it all out.
A/N: Final assignment submitted and I just realised I haven't written in a little bit so here you guys go! This thought came to me so suddenly and randomly, please don't question it. I have no idea about anything surrounding law so please don't mind any mistakes. I haven't written for Jay in a while and I wrote 4k words soooooo I hope you all enjoy!!
1.
Kim hadn't been working in Intelligence long till she met you.
She had known most of the guys up in Intelligence, but she never stuck around long enough to bump into you. It wasn't until Intelligence was being summoned to be witnesses in a court trial that she even heard of your name.
It was as if you sensed the peaceful lull they luckily found themselves in after suffering the past almost month with back-to-back cases. Without any escorting, you ever so casually strolled into the bullpen, heels sharp as ever as the sound reverberated through the previously silent upstairs.
The reaction was decently mixed. The general consensus seemed to be that they were happy to see you with one sigh and someone mumbling incoherently under their breath.
Face brightening, Erin got up from her seat and offered you a one-armed hug.
"Y/N! It's been so long, you here for the Whiteman case?"
"Hey guys, yeah unfortunately. My boss has got us working overtime trying to nail this guy." Your voice was soft and soothing, firm with enough authority that Kim could already tell you easily commandeered every room you walked into. "I'm here to go over your guys' statements and any questions you might be asked on the stand, just the usual stuff."
As you spoke, your eyes trailed over everyone, all their focuses homed in on you, but your journey seemingly stopped on a very specific green-eyed man who was trying his best to not flush under your eyes that all of a sudden felt all too leering.
Smirking, your lipstick covered lips perking ever so perfectly, you looked away first and addressed Erin. "Why don't we start with you since from what I've read, you were the most personally involved."
Humming in assent, Antonio moved to let you station yourself at his desk, stopping to lean against Jay's desk, the latter's eyes still firmly glued to you, or more specifically, your figure that was donning a fitted blazer and pencil skirt.
"Why don't you do anything about it?" Antonio murmured, amusement clear in his tone as he watched the younger man flush and force his eyes up towards your face, but his pale skin wasn't helping him a single bit.
Antonio was one of the few who witnessed the first time Jay had met you and now, several years later, he was pleasantly surprised to see both of you remained blissfully single.
He was slowly starting to get sick of Halstead's pining and he was worried he'd lose out on the money he put in years ago. It was high enough now that he could pay off a decent chunk of Eva's eventual college tuition.
Clearing his throat, Jay dragged a hand down his face, physically having to turn his chair around to face his computer in the opposite direction to his biggest distraction.
"Stop talking Antonio and quit slacking, you're up next."
If Kim wasn't so focused on the questions you were asking, she would've noticed the familiar and longing look you and Jay exchanged from across the room.
2.
Following your first meeting, Kim had the pleasure of not only seeing you several more times but also getting to know you on a more personal level.
Outside of the job, you were so sweet and lovely that it was almost cavity inducing. A few drinks at Molly's and they uncovered a giggly and surprisingly cuddly you who, unfortunately for them, kept secrets sealed as tight as fort knox.
You were a decent cook but an excellent baker when time permitted it and to say you weren't struggling with money would be an understatement.
Several times she had seen you in court with immaculate pant suits and stupidly expensive heels which followed you outside in your day-to-day life. It was safe to say that she didn't blink an eye when you casually strolled into work one day with a Birkin like it wasn't the most expensive thing to ever be in any of their proximities.
The familiar rhythm of your heels click-clacking brought her out of her stupor. She turned and found herself rolling her eyes at how the other lawyers’ eyes were drawn to the hypnotic swaying of your hips as you strode down the hallway.
"Mr Sinclair, I see you're still representing all the scum of the earth."
Damn, not even a hello.
Said man stammered, straightening up his tie as he tried getting himself together but failed to do so in time.
"Why don't we talk in private, just you and me, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."
Without waiting for a reply from him, you smiled, lips painted so perfectly Kim was able to admit she was jealous and wanted to know your ways, you side-stepped the man but before you could leave, you shoved your Birkin into Jay's chest, his hands frantically trying to keep hold of it.
Acting like that hadn't just happened, you confidently walked away, not batting a single perfectly curled eyelash to see if the other lawyer was following or if Jay had caught one of the pride and joys of your life.
Pretending like Kim hadn't just watched him be a small disaster that he usually never was unless it involved you and you only, Jay exhaled loudly, his face reading that he was disturbed and wanted to be doing literally anything else, but his actions spoke for themselves.
He kept a firm hold of your bag, his arms keeping such a secure hold that one would think the bag contained the world's most precious jewels.
Kim was now more than well-versed in the flirty relationship between you and Jay that you both vaguely swore, separately, that you weren't going to ask the other out.
During the few times she saw you and Jay in the same room together, she was forced to witness the blushing disaster that the detective would become every single time he lay eyes on you, but he was still as sharp-tongued as usual, but his words were laced with a softness only a select few were graced with.
She was forced to suffer your casual banter and flirty quips, both of your shared physical attraction for the other and how easily Jay folded the second you opened your mouth.
Kim had never put money into a betting pool quicker than she did after watching you and Jay interact on three separate occasions.
Wiggling her brows at him, a suggestive smirk making the man swallow a scoff, he rolled his eyes and walked into the bullpen, your Birkin still held preciously in his arms, only letting go once he got to his desk, gently setting it down beside a stack of files as if he knew exactly how much care to handle it with.
Kim tried not to think too much into how practised his moves were, handling a ridiculously expensive bag as if this were just another day when his wages were very indicative of the life he was living and considering of what she knew of his childhood living circumstances, he never would've even thought of such expensive notions even existing.
Much food for thought but before Kim could make a sly comment, Mr Sinclair came storming back, face red and smoke billowing out his ears as he went towards were his client was detained.
Your relaxed demeanour and satisfied smile told them everything they needed to know.
3.
The next time Kim saw you, it was under circumstances she wished they could have avoided.
The call came to Jay on his personal phone, apparently Will called him saying he needed to come to Med with very few words and Jay was already out the bullpen before he hung up the phone.
Following after him upon Voight's command, Kim barely kept up and felt a sense of dread and anxiety when he gave her the rundown.
It seemed that they got to Med in record time and Kim found herself trying to keep up with Jay who was speed walking faster than she'd ever seen him.
Following Will's directions to the correct treatment room, Kim felt her shoulders lose some of its built-up tension at the lack of a horrible disaster.
You definitely looked worse for wear. Your hair mused and lacking its usual sleekness, blood already coagulating at your temples and the dirt was made more apparent due to the red dress you were wearing.
Despite the circumstances, you still looked smoking hot and Kim found herself internally cursing you out for being effortlessly gorgeous, she was slightly jealous that you still pulled off being a mess.
"What happened?"
Jay had also become less tense, but his concern was still strong, eyes roaming over your body and zeroing in on the gauze you were holding at your bicep.
"Drunk guy was trying to get handsy with Emily." Kim recognised the name to be one of your college friends. "She pushed him away and when his friends tried getting involved, obviously we had to get involved."
Definitely not a nightmare but not an ideal situation either.
Continuing to look you over, keeping an ear out as you resumed your story, Kim quickly backed up and looked back up to your hand.
Looking at the other woman whose mouth was agape, you followed her line of sight and couldn't help yourself when you giggled.
Wiggling your fingers, you softly smiled down and let Kim look closer.
"When did you get engaged!?"
Unable to keep down your biggest smile, you found yourself feeling giddy, the same warm butterflies every time you told someone about your engagement.
"Last week, that's why me and my friends were out today, we were celebrating my engagement and my promotion."
Kim nodded, a soft ooh before whistling at the rock casually adorning your finger.
"Oh yeah, Jay told us a few weeks ago about the promotion, deputy district attorney is amazing! Congratulations, on both things."
Giggling again, you breathlessly thanked the brunette woman, your eyes slyly looking at the only man in the room with you.
Only when they finished tying up any and all loose ties with you did they leave and only once they got back in Jay's truck did Kim say anything.
"You didn't look that surprised when she said she's engaged."
Jay remained quiet, eyes forward on the road and both hands on the wheel.
He hummed, "I already knew."
Kim tried not to feel too bad, stuck between her elation for her friend’s engagement and her sympathy for her other friend who she knew had feelings for you.
"You know her fiancé then?"
Jay just hummed again, a slight twitch in his eyebrows but he didn't look as bothered or as disappointed as she would've thought.
The truck remained silent, both Jay and Kim ruminating in their thoughts.
Just as the light turned green, it suddenly hit her.
No one won the bet, none of them even thought of this turning out to be a possibility.
Damn, what were the going to do with all that money now?
4.
When Jay got shot, no one even pretended to act too surprised.
Obviously, they were shocked for all of two minutes before the man himself insisted one of them drove him to Med and he'd convince Will to check him out and he'd be back to work in no time.
Kim just so happened to draw the short straw, being the last one to say, 'not it' and touch her nose. She claims to have been distracted by her phone which everyone knew was safely tucked into her pocket.
Unsurprisingly, Will made a big fuss. Concerned alongside his brotherly annoyance, at times being purposely harsh just to get back at Jay for getting hurt excessively.
Wrapping up his wounds, Will roughly summarised what he should be doing going forward and how long he should be off work before he looked at his injured brother pointedly.
"And make sure you tell her otherwise I will, and trust me, it won't be pretty."
If they weren't brothers and Kim wasn't used to their banter, she would've thought he was threatening him, but when she turned to look at Jay, his split-second reaction made it seem that it was not just a joke but a genuine threat.
Seeing that Jay needed a moment alone to make a phone call, she excused herself to call Voight and update him on Jay's wellbeing.
She tried to waste some time after hanging up by catching up with Maggie and getting a drink from the vending machine but quickly found herself bored and walking back to Jay's treatment room to see if he was ready to leave.
"I promise you don't have to fly back. I can wait but your work in New York can't."
Jay's tone was placating and a lot softer than she was used to hearing from him.
"Yes, I promise it isn't too bad, you can even call Will and ask... Yes, I even promise to take it easy this time."
Woah, Kim wasn't even sure if 'taking it easy' were words in Jay's vocabulary.
If not for the sudden screeching of an ambulance and the rush of noise from paramedics loudly announcing vitals and medical staff zooming past her, she would've heard Jay exchange i love yous with the mysterious woman over the phone.
Once the group moved away and she heard Jay's conversation finish, she stood in the doorway of his treatment room, knocking on the glass to get his attention.
"Ready to go?"
Wordlessly nodding, Jay rose with ease and followed her, waving to Will and walking out the ED without any effort that it seemed like he wasn't shot thirty minutes ago.
"Who was that on the phone?" Kim couldn't help herself, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Y/N" Jay replied, looking nonplussed by her question.
Oh, Kim was so sure he had been talking to a potential girlfriend when he was really just talking to you.
If Kim wasn't then swept up away in Adam calling her, saying they were needed back, resulting in her rushing to drive Jay home and then speed back to work, she would've connected the dots that you also were in New York for a high-profile lawsuit.
5.
When Jay randomly announced he booked off work, time stood still. Everyone thought they were hearing things, experiencing a group hallucination in real time or they were all going crazy at the end of their shift, but Jay clarified that they had indeed, heard correctly.
Not only was he taking time off work for the first time since they all knew him that wasn't just to recover from on-the-job injuries, but he was taking two weeks off and he wasn't elaborating any further.
When Kim asked if you knew considering how close you were, he simply said 'yeah, she knows.'
You also were out of state, having flown back home to get married because you and your soon-to-be husband in two days wanted to get married with all your family present since he, apparently, had a very, very small family.
When they all couldn't get off work to attend, Kim was so assured Jay would be attending your wedding but with this new announcement, she wasn't sure what to think.
Obviously, he got an invitation, all of Intelligence did, but why did it now seem like he was purposefully going out of town to not go?
Maybe Kim was just thinking too much into it.
Finishing their shift together, everyone sent Jay their well wishes and hoped for a good flight before he drove off.
For the next two weeks, no one heard from him and none of them really tried to check in much. The man deserved some time to de-stress and relax without any reminders of Chicago or work.
When he Jay came back, Kim wasn't even trying to be dramatic, but he was glowing.
There was a tan that indicated he went somewhere warm, his body loose and relaxed in a way that showed he truly let go during his holiday and it was comforting to know he had been able to enjoy himself and his smile was warm and full of life that was usually drained out of all of them, their work draining them all of said life.
He looked rejuvenated in a way that made Kim strongly consider taking time off herself and get out of Chicago.
Jay remained secretive of where he went and what he got up to, but his smile was very telling. They could all tell he thoroughly enjoyed himself. If not for that, they all would've poked him harder.
Over the next week, they all got lost in the cycle that was their lives, constant home then work, work then home and it was somewhere in-between that Kim got some intel on your wedding.
Mikayla was sleeping and all the chores had been done, giving Kim a rare moment of pure relaxation. So she had a show running, a mask on her face while she indulged in at least thirty minutes of scrolling on her phone.
When she found herself getting bored of instagram, she quickly refreshed it but before she could exit the app, she was met with a few new posts from you.
Pleasantly surprised, Kim looked at the first picture and your caption and smiled instantly.
Swiping through the pictures, she saw behind the scenes of you and people she could tell were family just from how similar you all looked, and multiple moments from the wedding and the reception.
You looked stunning in your dress and the picture of yours and your husbands ring clad hands made her jaw drop because with the professional camera, your ring looked even more expensive than usual.
Hearting both your posts of your wedding, she scrolled to the final post and her jaw immediately dropped.
You had posted a dump of your weeklong honeymoon, and the first picture was you posing on the beach. You looked so sexy in your beachwear Kim was more jealous than usual, her envy directed mostly at your new husband.
Swiping through, her smile remained as she looked through each picture of the scenery, the food and yourself. It was clear that most the images of you were taken by your husband but there weren't many of him.
There was the occasional show of his hand and the lower half of his body and Kim quickly swiped to the next picture when she got to the one of his glistening half-naked torso.
Hearting your final post, she went to leave comments on all of your posts, her comment filled with congratulations and love and compliments joined the ranks of all your friends and families.
If not for the see of comments she didn't even bother navigating, she would have noticed the comments Jay left behind, his words not one from a friend and the hearts definitely not platonic.
+1
The only reason Kim liked coming to court was because it meant that she wasn't really working. It was always during work hours, but they barely did any actual work, it was so minimal it was sort of like a day off.
The case that Intelligence was part of was happening in over an hour and you had asked them all to come into your office beforehand.
Since you got promoted, you didn't do as much work with them as you used to but because of the severity of their case, you gladly took it on.
It had been two years since you got married and due to how busy their lives were, both in and outside of work, they never got around to meeting your husband.
In the few times they did see you at work, you always laughed it off when any of them complained and it seemed that despite being married and the possible girlfriend Jay had, your relationship dynamic hadn't changed.
Kim didn't want to think about it too much otherwise she'd feel some unsavoury emotions that she really didn't want to face, neither did she want to confront either of her friends.
Entering your office, the room the exact same to how it was the last time Kim was here, she realised you were nowhere to be seen.
"Where is she?"
As if being summoned, you appeared behind them in the doorway and if not for being seasoned officers of the law, they all would've jumped, well, Adam did but that's beside the point.
"Hey, you guys made it just in time! So sorry if you were waiting long, I was just in the restroom. There's some last-minute things I want to go over that I didn't get to last time. Klein's lawyer submitted some evidence, and I just want some clarification."
You spoke as they all stepped aside, allowing you to make your way to your desk that was the definition of an organised mess.
Your heels thudded against the carpet, the bottoms red and the heels still ever so high. Your trousers had not a single crease, the legs were wide at the bottom, but they fit you perfectly. Your blazer sat on the back of your chair and your shirt wasn't the usual style she was used to seeing you wear.
It was long-sleeved and a little bit bigger, it was tied in a neat bow around your stoma-
Your stomach was round.
It wasn't too noticeable, but when you turned sideways to pick up a different folder, she could see your stomach was rounder. In fact, the way your shirt was tied, it was all clicking into place, the shirt suspiciously similar to maternity clothes.
Kim tried to focus on what you were saying but found herself unable to look away. It felt rude to ask because it could just be that you gained weight, it happened to everyone! And the last thing she wanted was to offend you or distract anyone before they were due to be in court for a case that had to go their way.
And so Kim bit her tongue, exchanges looks with Adam when she realised he had also seen what she saw but said man just shook his head frantically.
On their way to the courtroom, Kim overheard a fraction of your conversation with Jay.
"It was just my morning sickness but it's definitely better than the first trimester-"
After hearing that, she decided to block out the rest of your conversation and zero in on what Adam was saying to Kevin.
In the courtroom, you were your usual confident self. After the first round of questioning, you had unbuttoned your blazer and took it off, placing it on the empty chair besides you and no one but the opposing sides lawyer batted an eye.
The lawyer seemed stunned, steps to the stand faltering before he quickly recovered and went back like nothing had happened.
Apparently he hadn't seen many pregnant lawyers in court or maybe he hadn't expected that you, of all the lawyers he knew, would be pregnant.
Recess was quick and the verdict even quicker.
Smiling, more than satisfied with the sentencing the judge determined, you packed up your things and smugly shook the other lawyer’s hands before striding off, the sound of your heels lost in the now loud courtroom.
You walked up to Jay who took your blazer and draped it over his arm as the two of you walked out side by side, the gap between your shoulders basically non-existent and his hand only found the small of your back once you made it a few steps away from the doors.
Kim didn't have to think too hard for all the puzzle pieces over the years to all click perfectly into place.
Laughing to herself, she shook off Adam's questioning gaze as she watched the two of you walk away, your blazer on Jay's arm and your Birkin in his hand with your hand looped through his other arm.
You were the picturesque image on badass wife and completely smitten husband.
With your heels clicking off into the distance, Jay's small but clear as day adoring smile on his face as he listened to you talking his ear off, your words of ultrasound the last thing she heard as you both left the courthouse.
If Kim were a better person, she wouldn't be thinking of the betting pool that no one had been able to cash in on since your engagement almost four years ago.
But she wasn't a better person and now she somehow had to get in contact with Antonio. They were a little too late to pay for Eva's college tuition but maybe they could be for Diego’s.
• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Basically, the fan fic could be set at one of Jay's Intelligence colleagues' wedding and mc is one of the bride's closest friends; the bride wants to set her up with one hot cop (could also be one who works on patrol). It could either be that the 'chosen' guy is not Jay, but then mc and Jay naturally connect at the reception (maybe through her wanting to avoid the guy she's set up with) or Jay being the 'set up' guy from minute 1 and them just meeting there (with the usual embaressement that comes from friends insisting you should get together) and hitting it off immediately.
• Warnings: curse words/strong language, mention of alcohol consumption, lots of tension and physical contact, heavy making out, suggestive at the end.
• Word count: 8.8k
• A/N: PLEASE READ ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ DUE TO SUGGESTIVE THEMES. The way I was so excited about this fic but I reread it and now I hate it why am I like this 😭 Let me know in the comments what do you think about this one, I love you all ❤️
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you said to Kim as you watched her sip the champagne from her glass, her huge ring shining against the lights of the room.
She was radiant, a smile plastered on her lips as wide as you had ever seen her in all the time you were friends. She was happy and your heart exploded with joy seeing her finally have her happy ending with Adam, especially after everything they’ve been through.
She looked beautiful in her white wedding dress and you couldn’t hide the tears of happiness you shed when you saw her walk down the aisle, a radiant smile on her lips. Adam looked at her with eyes so bright and full of love it made you wonder if there’d ever be someone who’d look at you like that, as if you were the only person who mattered, as if without you he couldn’t even breathe.
“Of course it’s a good idea! There’s nothing better than a blind date with a hot cop,” she finished sipping her champagne and set it down on the tray as a waiter walked by, thanking him immediately after. “You don’t trust me? Have I ever let you down on the men front?”
You didn’t respond, just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay there might’ve been some unfortunate meetings but this won’t be the case. Please, please, please. I swear he’s a really cute and good guy!” She begged, putting on her cute puppy face that not even the devil could resist.
Little bitch.
You sighed and rolled your eyes and that was enough to make her clap her hands with joy. “Only because it’s your day.”
“You won’t regret it, I promise.”
The fact was you were already regretting it.
You had never been very good at blind dates, you hated not knowing who you were going to talk to and spend the evening with, you wanted to be able to decide first if you liked that person. What if you didn’t like him, or if he didn’t like you? It would’ve been very awkward.
Actually, it was. It was definitely awkward.
Kim had pointed out from afar a man who was talking to Adam—ignoring how the latter was watching Kim without ever taking his eyes off her even while talking to other people—and you took your time to observe him.
He was a tall man, from behind you noticed his ash blonde hair and a statuesque body that was embraced by a tuxedo. Without even saying anything, Kim grabbed your hand and dragged you towards them, ignoring your signs of protest.
You were so nervous and you hated it.
And it certainly didn’t help that Kim had made it her mission to pair you up with someone, since you were the only single girl in your group of friends.
But you were happy, you weren’t lonely, you were fine being alone and that was important, you didn’t need a man by your side to determine your happiness. You defined your own happiness.
“Hi babe,” Kim greeted her husband, who smiled before sliding his arm around her hips and kissing her. The two of them were so in love it was almost disgusting. “Sorry I was rude. Caleb, I wanted you to meet my friend.”
Your cheeks flushed red as you felt the man’s gaze on you. “Oh so you’re the famous Y/n right? I’ve heard so much about you.”
God please have mercy.
“I hope only good things,” you replied with a smile and offered him your hand, which he immediately shook. The way his eyes moved up and down your body made your skin crawl, and the smirk he had plastered across his lips as he looked at you didn’t suggest anything good.
You pulled your hand away, forcing a smile as he started to speak, and cursed both Kim and Adam when you saw them sneak away, both giggling as they left you alone with that guy.
As they say, a woman’s sixth sense is like a gift, it never fails.
And it didn’t even take half an hour of talking to Caleb to realize he was self-centered and you’d never see him again. He talked your ear off as if you’d known each other your whole life, focusing mostly on him, his work, the gym, his exploits. You nodded every now and then, just to give him the impression you were listening when in reality your mind had dissociated after the first ten minutes of conversation.
And by conversation you obviously meant monologue.
He didn’t ask you anything, and by nothing you really meant nothing, not how old you were, your job, your hobbies, in short the simple questions one asks when one is getting to know another.
You looked around bored, cursing Kim and yourself with every fiber of your being for letting yourself being dragged—for the million time— in a situation you didn’t want to be in.
You decided you’d never take a single piece of her advice about men ever again.
“Once, when I was still on patrol, there was a robbery a few blocks away. I was alone and when I got there the thief was already running. I’ll make this short but even the commander congratulated me…”
You were trying really hard to listen to him but every time you tried to pay attention, he was still talking about himself. It was hard to follow his conversation/monologue without being fascinated by some random spot in the room like the chandelier.
Caleb was a beautiful man, that was objective. He was tall, broad-shouldered, he had a sculpted physique, defined jaw, eyes as blue as the sky. But beauty wasn’t everything, not when his character was similar to a mollusk.
“Hey baby, here you are, I’ve been looking for you for a while,” a male voice reached your ears from behind and you almost had a heart attack when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. You snapped your head towards the man, finding yourself in front of one of the most beautiful man you’d ever see.
Forget Caleb, who the hell was this man?
You froze, having no idea what to say or do. Who the hell was he? What did he want?
“Sorry it took so long but the line for the bathroom was endless,” the stranger continued and you tried with every fiber of your being to remain impassive. Your body was tense as a violin string as you tried to subtly move away from his grasp.
Breathtaking or not, you didn’t know him.
“Baby? You have a boyfriend? Kim told me you were single,” Caleb exclaimed almost indignantly, alternating his gaze between you and the stranger. You thanked God he was a second-rate cop and had the detective skills of a hamster or he would’ve seen from a mile away this was the first time you’d seen that man around you.
“Oh, well this is pretty new not many people know about us, but we’ve been seeing each other for a while. Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company—”
“Caleb.”
“Carl. Thanks,” the stranger held out a hand and Caleb looked at it before looking back at you and walking away without a word, a furious expression on his face.
You didn’t even bother following him because damn, you were so relieved you got him out of the way.
The stranger’s gaze was on you even though he had removed his arm from around you.
“Well, I guess you need to work on your acting skills but it went well right?”
You widened your eyes, still confused about what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”
“Oh you’re welcome, I didn’t just save you from the most boring date of your life,” he smirked.
You continued to look at him, confused, embarrassed and unable to form a coherent sentence. Who the hell was this man? And why was he so breathtakingly handsome? And why did he just pretend to be your boyfriend?
He held out a hand towards you, a smirk plastered across his lips, acting like he hadn’t just pretended to be in a relationship with a stranger. “I’m Jay Halstead. You must be Y/n right? It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Jay? Why does this sound familiar?
You widened your eyes, not even trying to hide your expression of fear and shock. “How do you know my name?” You asked, taking a step back, ready to run away.
His gaze softened, understanding he must’ve really looked like a stalker. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, I work with Kim in Intelligence. She mentioned you a couple of times and I assumed it was you since you’re the only one of her friends I’ve never met.”
Then you realized why his name was familiar to you. Kim—when talking about her job—had sometimes mentioned a ‘Jay’ and it was nice to finally be able to associate the face with that name, especially if the face was that one.
God he’s so hot.
“Listen,” he continued, raising his hands in surrender, a drink in the left one, “I’m not a stalker I swear—I came off in the wrong way. I just saw you from afar while you were talking to Carl, and you seemed to be in trouble so I thought I’d help. Let’s start over, shall we?”
You tried not to chuckle at the way he got Caleb’s name wrong and stared at him for a moment. He maintained eye contact, his irises locked on yours with no sign of changing direction. You had only just noticed how green his eyes were and you didn’t know why, but something inside you made you no longer want to run away.
You nodded and he smiled triumphantly and, God, he had one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen. He held out a hand to you again. “I’m Jay, nice to meet you.”
You tried to suppress a smile of your own and you clasped his hand. “It’s Y/n, the pleasure is mine.”
That handshake sent a spark up your entire arm, not in the cliché kind of way, but in the way that made you feel your body suddenly enveloped in a wave of heat.
He didn’t let go of your hand right away, but you didn’t care. You liked it, you liked the way his grip was strong, firm, confident, but his touch soft at the same time. You liked how his palm felt rough against yours but his skin was warm, a stark contrast to yours.
His thumb skimmed against the back of your hand before he pulled it away, bringing the glass to his lips with his other hand and taking a sip of his drink. All without him ever breaking eye contact with you.
This single innocent gesture left you breathless.
Did I mention he’s so damn hot and sexy?
He looked at you with curiosity, as if he had already decided that from now on his attention would be solely on you.
“This is the part where I have to thank you for saving me from an embarrassing date, isn’t it?”
His eyes flickered for a second on your lips as you spoke and he subtly took a deep breath, taking another sip of his drink. You pretended it didn’t affect you in the slightest even though your stomach had just flipped.
“You not filing a complaint against me is a great thank you,” Jay replied making you laugh, “and besides, I should be the one thanking Kim.”
You tilted your head slightly to the side, looking at him with a questioning expression. “Kim? Why?”
“For setting you up with the wrong guy, might’ve missed my shot otherwise.”
You burst out laughing again and rolled your eyes. “C’mon Jay, is that the best you can do?”
“Ouch,” he put his hand to his chest as if he was in pain. “That really hurt, I may be rusty but I’m not that bad c’mon.”
You smirked. “You’ll survive officer.”
“Nuh, uh. It’s detective, please.”
“My bad, I apologize Detective,” it was your turn to raise your hands in surrender. “But seriously, thank you for saving me from whatever that was.”
He smiled softly at you. “It was a pleasure. You were a couple seconds away from pulling the fire alarm to escape, I couldn’t just stay there and do nothing.”
“Oh, so you make a habit of being a knight and saving damsels in distress?”
“Nah, only the ones that are worth saving,” he replied, and you laughed, feeling that anxious and nervous feeling fade away as you continued to converse—for real this time—with Jay.
“I could’ve gotten away with it, you know,” you crossed your arms and Jay’s eyes flickered, for a millisecond, to your chest, specifically the neckline of your dress.
“Please,” he raised an eyebrow, “if he had kept talking any longer you would’ve ripped your hair out.”
“Stop you’re so dramatic, that’s not true at all,” you rolled your eyes—even though it was the truest thing you had ever heard—making him chuckle. “What’s your poison?” You nodded to his drink as he brought it to his lips and took a sip.
A teasing smile caressed his lips and then it was your turn flicking your gaze to his mouth. You had tried to resist but damn it was so hard. “Bourbon, neat. Effective right?”
You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful energy. “Is efficient a new fancy way of saying banal and predictable?”
He let out a soft laugh, the sound so low and warm it made your insides squirm. “Probably,” he countered, “but it’s still a classic.” He slightly tilted his head to the side as his green eyes roamed along your body, lingering for a moment on your dress before meeting your gaze again. You felt every inch of your skin catch fire under his eyes and you couldn’t help but compare Jay’s gaze to Caleb’s, which only made your skin crawl instead. “But it’s not for you. I think you’re more of a champagne kind of woman.”
At that same moment, by pure coincidence, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses passed not far from you. Jay stopped him and took it, before offering it to you. You blushed, before taking it, your fingers brushing against him. “Thank you.”
You lifted your glass towards him, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “To Kim and Adam,” you said.
“To Kim and Adam,” he repeated voice low and smooth. He raised his glass to meet you, the soft clink echoing between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke—his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. It was just a toast, simple and harmless, but the way he was looking at you? Nothing about it felt simple.
“So, you’re a champagne type of woman,” he smirked.
“Guilty,” you shrugged your shoulders. “But what can I say? I like little sparkle in my life.”
You took another sip of champagne and that time it was your gaze that roamed along his body, perfectly wrapped in the tux he was wearing—over the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his dress shirt stretched just right across his chest.
Man, he looked so good it had to be illegal.
When your eyes returned to his you noticed the way he clenched his jaw and the slightest twitch of his lips as he looked at you, as if he knew exactly what you were doing but didn’t mind a bit.
His fingers flexed around his glass and a sexy smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes shining like the moon in the night. He slightly tilted his head to the side, his index finger brushing along the rim of his glass in a slow, absent-minded motion—like he was thinking about something he probably shouldn’t say out loud. “A little spark huh? And here I thought I was bringing the spark.”
You giggled. Yep, actually giggled. “Oh yeah? So that’s what you’re doing?”
“If you’re asking me then I’m not doing a good job,” he retorted, with a fake sad expression acting like he just wiped a tear, “you’re hurting me so much tonight.”
“Oh, you poor thing, I’d hate to bruise that big ego of yours.” You placed a hand on his bicep and caressed it in mock comfort and, fuck, you had to use every fiber of your body to not squeeze and feel up his muscles.
He tensed under your touch, his breath hitching in his throat feeling of your hand on him.
His lips curved into a slow, lazy smile—the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drew, his voice dropping just a notch lower. “I can take a hit. Besides…” His gaze swept over you again, slower this time—unapologetic. “Something tells me it’s worth it.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the smile threatening to break free, but to no avail. He was too good at this—too smooth, too charming, but damn if it wasn’t working.
“Careful Detective Halstead someone might think you’re flirting with me,” you smirked, taking another sip of your champagne.
He shortened the distance between you, subtly and not too noticeably, but you felt his presence, his scent enveloping you fully, more than it had done so far. “Luckily I don’t care about anyone but the person I’m talking to right now,” he replied, “and they’d be right because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
The air between you grew heavier—not uncomfortable but charged with something unspoken. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the noise of the wedding reception fading into a distant hum. You should’ve looked away, said something to break the tension, but you didn’t want to.
You’ve never felt anything like this, being so damn attracted to a man you were dying to kiss him, to touch him.
“So confident,” you murmured. You tried to keep your eyes on his, but you couldn’t, not when his mouth was not too far from yours. “And here I thought you were just being nice.”
He chuckled, his voice low and deep. “Trust me sweetheart, there’s nothing nice about what I’m thinking right now.”
You took another sip, hoping to steady the warmth curling low in your stomach. Why were your legs suddenly turning to jelly?
“So…” you started, arching a brow in an attempt to shift the focus back on him, “do you flirt like this with every girl you save, or am I just special?”
Jay’s smile widened and he took a slow sip of his bourbon before answering. “You tell me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Do you feel special?”
Damn him.
You laughed softly, shaking your head and taking a deep breath at the same time. “You’re trouble, Halstead.”
He didn’t deny it. “And yet, you’re still talking to me,” he pointed out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What does that say about you?”
“That I make questionable decisions?”
Jay let out another quiet laugh, but this one felt different—lower, warmer. “Or maybe,” he murmured, leaning in a bit towards you, “you’re exactly where you want to be.”
And the truth? You weren’t sure you could argue with that because he was right, you were where you wanted to be.
You finished the rest of your glass in a single sip because there were two possibilities, this or jump on him and you couldn’t already do that considering you had just met him.
He was throwing you off so much it left you speechless and it wasn’t like you. You didn’t know if you loved it or hated it.
He chuckled as he continued to look at you, as if he had just read your mind.
Your guardian angel, Kim—who you’d thank for the rest of your life from that moment on—appeared at that exact moment, interrupting the game of glances between you and Jay that was becoming too intense for your own good.
“Jay! Y/n? Where’s Caleb?” She asked, visibly excited and smiling.
“I have no idea, courtesy of my fake boyfriend here,” you nodded at Jay who chuckled sexily.
How could laughter be so sexy?
“We need to talk about your questionable taste in men Kim, what kind of rat did you want her to be paired with?” He joked one hand shoved into his pants pocket while the other held his almost empty glass.
“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that, I’d say she made a good choice in men,” Adam suddenly intervened, wrapping his arm around Kim’s hips and pressing a kiss to her temple. The sight warmed your heart, making you smile like an idiot.
“So, you’ve already introduced yourselves,” Kim continued, alternating her gaze between you and Jay but with a sinister smirk on her lips.
You and Jay exchanged a quick knowing look. “Yeah, he saved me from the mess that was Caleb. And by the way, I’m never listening to you ever again Kim, don’t do that to me again.”
“You two look so good together,” Kim blurted out and giggled, visibly tipsy. “Don’t you think they look hot together honey?”
“Okay that’s enough, let’s get back to dancing,” Adam chimed in again, struggling to contain his laughter, before dragging his wife away.
Before she left though Kim came back to you and whispered, “I was watching you two from afar there’s so much sexual tension between you two that even I got turned on.”
Your cheeks turned on fire but before you could respond Adam finally dragged her away, leaving you alone with Jay again.
He let out a light laugh, and you turned your head towards him. “Do I want to ask you what she said?”
You shook your head, taking another sip of champagne as you still heard her words echoing in your head. “Nope.”
He looked at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised. “Kim really does have questionable matching skills, I take it this isn’t the first time with Carl,” he said, changing the subject.
“You have no idea,” you rolled your eyes, “my brain can’t comprehend how she managed to match me with these men and not one of them was normal.”
“Well, have you thought that maybe they weren’t the problem?”
You gasped in fake shock and elbowed him in the side, and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, making you laugh at the show he was putting on. “I could arrest you for assault on a police officer you know that right? You’d look really pretty in a prison uniform.”
“You think I’ll look cute in handcuffs too?”
What the fuck?! Where the hell did that come from?
Jay, who was taking his last sip of bourbon, chocked on it and started coughing after the liquor went down the wrong way and, although you were embarrassed by the stupidity of that statement, the scene was pretty hilarious.
“You good? Should I call a doctor? What happened?” You teased him, trying to hold back your laughter but failing miserably.
“You know damn well what happened,” he retorted with mock annoyance even as the smile on his lips belatedly came. “And pretty wouldn’t even come close to how good you’d look in handcuffs if you really wanted an answer, but that’s something we’ll talk about later.”
You blushed, once again, from head to toe and hated yourself for this reaction and how easily he could see it. “Later? Who says there’s gonna be a ‘later’?”
He smirked down at you, and it was so sexy it made your head spin. “Trust me there will be.”
“You’re so cocky detective.”
Jay leaned in just a fraction, enough that the faint scent of his cologne wrapped around you—something warm and woodsy, with a hint of spice. “Only when I’m sure about something,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.
His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. You could've played it cool, thrown back a quip, but the way he was looking at you made your pulse skip in a way that was impossible to ignore.
His gaze dropped to your lips again—just for a second—but it was enough to send a fresh wave of heat curling through your body.
“C’mon,” he said suddenly, holding out a hand towards you. “You owe me a dance.”
You lifted a brow. “Do I?”
Jay shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I did save you from Carl. Seems only fair.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that broke free as you slipped your hand into his. “Alright, Detective,” you quipped, “but only because you asked so nicely.”
His fingers curled around yours—firm, warm, just the right amount of possessive. And as he led you toward the dance floor, you realized something else: you didn’t want to let go.
The music shifted as you reached the edge of the dance floor—something slower, smoother, the kind of song that practically begged for two people to be just a little too close.
Exactly what you wanted.
Jay didn’t hesitate. His hand slid easily to your waist, fingers splayed warm and wide on the small of your back as he pulled you against him, close enough to send all your senses into a tizzy.
It had been hard until now, but this? Being so close to him that you could even count his eyelashes? It was devastating.
You couldn’t even recognize yourself, you’d never found yourself craving a man’s touch so badly, like you needed it to breathe, and in that moment you realized you’d only met the wrong people because, fuck, you were missing out.
“You good with this?” he murmured in your ear, his voice just for you. Low. Intimate. And there was something in the way he asked—like he cared, but also like he already knew your answer.
You nodded, hoping he didn’t feel the way your heart was beating against his chest. Your bodies began to sway in time to the slow music, like you’d done it a million times, like he wasn’t a stranger to you and you a stranger to him.
You didn’t know anything about the man, and he didn’t know anything about you, but you were so drawn to each other it almost drove you crazy.
As you engaged in small talk, you tried not to focus on how close he was—on how his thumb brushed against your back every time he shifted—but it was impossible. Especially when every slight movement seemed to make the space between you shrink.
He asked about you, what do you do for a job or in your free time, how old were you, how long have you known Kim, you asked about him and his life, and it was crazy how, even though you had known each other for literally a short time, you both felt comfortable talking to each other, joking and laughing when you both made terrible jokes.
“You’re really giving me a hard time,” he said, his fingers flexing on your hip.
You turned your head to meet his gaze, realizing how he was already looking at you. There wasn’t any trace of humor left, his eyes were staring at you, but they weren’t focused on yours exactly, they traveled along your face as if he was analyzing you, memorizing every feature and detail.
“Why?” You asked and his eyes flickered on your lips. He continued to caress your hip unconsciously, your bodies pressed against each other and with every slight movement you could feel the heat between you intensifying.
“Because I’m trying so hard to behave and be a gentleman but it’s getting really hard,” he answered softly, his voice raspy, his breath an inch from your lips. “And I hate not being in control.”
You stopped breathing for a second and a shiver ran down your spine. It would’ve been so easy to break that distance, it would’ve only taken a couple of inches and his mouth would’ve been on yours to finally satisfy that visceral attraction that was pulling you towards each other.
And you most likely would’ve let him do it if it hadn’t been for Kim who, with her usual perfect timing, had grabbed your arm, totally drunk and with a beaming smile.
“C’mon Y/n, we have to dance together!” she exclaimed loudly, jumping up and down with an enthusiasm you had never seen in her as she continued to pull on your arm without even leaving you room to protest.
Jay’s arm was still around your hip, though his grip wasn’t as firm as it had been before, and you hated to admit it, but you already missed that touch.
It seemed mutual because you felt him tense for a moment, his fingers reluctant to release their grip on you, as if he also hated the idea of letting you go. But eventually he did, slowly, the heat of his hand still burning through your dress and against your skin even after you’d pulled away.
“Don’t go too far,” he whispered in your ear, quiet enough to make it seem like a secret between the two of you.
And as Kim dragged you through the crowd to the beat of a more upbeat song, you turned to him and gave him one last look. Jay was still there, standing at the edge of the dance floor, his hands stuffed in his pockets, that intense gaze still fixed on you. He winked at you before you disappeared into the crowd and you almost tripped on your own feet.
Oh my fucking god.
Jay leaned against a wall, his hands still in his pockets, one foot placed in front of the other. In other moments he wouldn’t have waited to take another drink, but that night he wanted to be as sober as possible.
His gaze was fixed on the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, but not on everyone, his eyes scanned the people only for one person in particular. He cursed those disco strobe lights because, in those dim lights, it was not easy to find you.
But when he finally did, his attention was focused only and solely on you, not on the music, not on the world around him.
You were laughing now, spinning with Kim on the dance floor, some strands of your hair coming out of your hairstyle as you moved to the music. He should’ve backed away. Hell, he’d spent years perfecting that skill, knowing when to pull back, where to avoid getting too close, perceive when there was danger. But with you? It wasn’t that easy.
It hadn’t been from the second he laid eyes on you, when he saw you enter the wedding venue with some of your friends.
He didn’t know what kind of witchcraft you had performed on him but he seemed to not be able to stop looking at you. His gaze tracked the curve of your smile and the movement of your lips as you sang along the song, the flush on your skin from the warmth of the room, and the way your dress hugged your figure just enough to make his thoughts stray somewhere they shouldn’t.
He told himself to get it together—to stop looking at you like a creepy stalker—but it was a losing battle, he seemed hypnotized.
And when you tipped your head back, laughing at something Kim said, Jay swore under his breath.
He was in trouble.
Because the truth was, it wasn’t just the way you looked—although you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—it was the way you felt. Warm and soft against him when you danced, your hand fitting so easily in his. The way you leaned into his touch, like part of you wanted him closer, even when you were pretending otherwise.
It almost scared him how he found himself talking, laughing and joking so easily with a stranger he had just met.
But he wanted more of that. More of you.
And that realization hit him harder than it should’ve.
Jay exhaled slowly, willing the tension in his chest to ease. It didn’t work. Not when you turned your head as you kept dancing, scanning the room as if you were searching for something, or someone.
And when your eyes locked, his heart gave a sharp kick, one he didn’t truly expect. And the way you held his gaze? It did something to him.
Your lips curled into the faintest smile—small, almost shy—and damn if it didn’t make something twist low in his stomach. He should’ve been the one in control here, but with just one look, you had him pinned. And the worst part was that he didn’t mind.
Not even a little.
Your attention was caught again by one of your friends who pulled you towards her as you belted out the song in the background, breaking eye contact.
He tried to look away from you sometimes, focusing his attention on something else but it was as if his eyes were attracted to a magnet, you.
And maybe that was the problem.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this, wasn’t supposed to want someone he’d just met with this kind of heat and desire curling through his veins. But here he was, eyes on you, mind already running a dangerous path of wondering how you’d taste if he let himself get too close.
He was about to move—to do something, anything—but then Kim grabbed your hand again, spinning you around in a dizzy circle. Your laughter rang out, bright and carefree, while Jay just stood there against that wall.
He didn’t belong in this moment. Not really. A guy like him—weighted down by too much baggage, too many mistakes, a very dangerous job—had no business wanting you like this.
But God help him, he did.
When the song shifted to something louder and faster, you finally pulled back from Kim, breathless and glowing in a way that had no right to make his pulse pick up. Kim was already dragging Adam away, leaving you alone again, and for half a second, Jay thought this was his shot.
But then, just as quickly, you disappeared into the crowd.
And that shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. More than it had any right to.
Jay exhaled, dragging a hand through his face. He told himself to play it cool, to just let it go, but the thing was, he didn’t want to let it go. Let you go.
And if he had anything to say about it, this night wasn’t ending until he found you again.
Jay pushed himself off the wall, his pulse thudding a little harder than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t the type to chase after someone, not like this. But that night, he couldn’t seem to help himself. His eyes scanned the room, but the crowd was thicker now, people swaying to the music, bodies pressed too close.
You weren’t on the dance floor anymore. He knew that much. And the longer it took to find you, the harder it became to shake the restless feeling gnawing at the edges of his control.
Get a grip, Halstead.
He could’ve leave you alone. Should’ve, probably. But as he moved through the party he knew nothing would sit right until he saw you again.
And then, just when he started to think he’d lost you for good, he caught a sight of you through the open door leading to the balcony.
Jay hesitated, his hand curling into a fist at his side. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, all he knew was that the moment he saw you again, his mind quieted. And maybe that was reason enough.
Without giving himself time to second-guess, he stepped outside.
You were leaning against the railing, your back to him, the cool night air brushing against your bare shoulders. He let himself take in the sight of you for just a second longer—how the city lights reflected off your skin, how you tilted your head back like you were finally catching your breath.
You were breathtaking. So fucking beautiful it hurt.
“Wasn’t sure if I’d get another chance to steal you away.”
You turned your head at the sound of his voice, and there it was again, that little smile. “Something tells me you love a good challenge Detective.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, nodding. “I feel like the reward will be worthy.”
He moved closer to you as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, leaving his hands there for a while as he let your scent engulf him. You then turned fully to face him and Jay didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed along his body, focusing for a moment on his chest, his arms, before looking back into his eyes.
“Oh so you really like me,” you joked, eyes still on him, slightly tilting your head but he couldn’t ignore the blush on your cheeks.
“Thought I made that pretty clear by now.”
And just like that, the tension stretched tight again, thicker this time but with the difference that nothing and no one would interrupt this time.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The distant thump of music spilled through the open door, but out here? It felt like the rest of the world had faded away.
He closed the distance between you, never taking his eyes off yours. He tried to pull away, but it was as if he physically couldn’t, as if he needed it.
“And here I thought you’d even left the party.”
“You’re hurting me so much tonight, I’m not that bad at hitting on you c’mon.”
You giggled and bit your bottom lip. He found himself suppressing a groan because, damn, he had never wanted anything so badly as he wanted to bite your lip.
“Well,” you batted your lashes, “you’re definitely making it hard for me to leave now,” your eyes flicked to his lips before returning to his and he told himself to calm down but, God help him, if you did that again he’d lose every ounce of control he had left.
“I guess you found a good reason to stay then,” his tongue flicked across his bottom lip and he couldn’t miss the way your gaze landed on his lips, again. The light was dim, not very bright, but he could see so clearly how dilated your pupils were and it drove him crazy, knowing you felt the same.
“Is that so?” You murmured. He leaned closer to you and placed his hands on the railing at either side of you, trapping you in his arms but not touching you. Your breathing quickened at the closeness, your lips parted slightly as if you needed air, and that was enough to make his pulse quicken and the heat in his blood spike.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” he taunted
You let out a quiet laugh, warm and soft, and something about the sound made his fingers itch to touch you again, so much so that he tightened his fingers around the cold metal of the railing.
You took his tie—which had been dangling between you—into your hands, and Jay seriously thought he was going to collapse at your feet at any moment. You hadn’t done anything too dramatic, but he felt like he was going to have an aneurysm. Just seeing your fingers caress the fabric of your tie, how you played with it while you continued to look at him, drove him crazy.
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” you repeated under your breath the words he had said a few hours earlier. His hands were gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles were completely white from trying to vent the frustration he felt.
His fingers inched closer and closer to you, until the sides of his thumbs were brushing against your dress. God, how much he wanted to grab you, hold you and touch you, every inch of your body until the ground disappeared beneath you.
You didn’t pull away, if anything, you shifted closer, your warmth seeping into his skin.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked when he remained silent, staring at you while you continued to play with his tie.
“I think,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping slow circles against your pelvis’ side, “you’re gonna be a problem for me.”
The tension cracked, sharp and electric, and neither of you moved, like you were both waiting to see who’d break first.
“Maybe I want to be,” you admitted quietly.
That was all he needed.
Jay didn’t overthink it, he just moved, closing the last bit of space between you. His hand slid to your waist and made you stand upright, as he tilted his head down, giving you plenty of time to pull back.
But you didn’t.
You stayed right there, your breath warm against his skin as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.
“You’re making this impossible,” he said, his voice rougher now, low enough that only you could hear. His fingers flexed against your waist, dragging you closer without meaning to. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure anymore. “I’m trying so hard to be good, but—fuck.”
“But what?” you interrupted, your tone softer, breathier than before. His eyes snapped to yours, and the challenge in your gaze nearly broke him. “What happens if you stop trying?”
His breath hitched. Jesus Christ.
Jay let out a low, bitter laugh, because you weren’t making this any easier. And the worst part? You knew it. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked, as his fingers trailed up, just slightly, brushing the curve of your ribs. It wasn’t a question. Not really.
Your lips parted, and for a second—just a second—he thought maybe you’d call his bluff. But instead, you tilted your head, eyes fixed on his mouth like you were imagining the same damn thing he was.
“I really, really do,” you murmured. And that was it. That was the crack in the dam.
His other hand came up before he could stop himself, fingers grazing along your jaw, tilting your face toward his as his nose brushed against yours. “You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he admitted, no more games, no more teasing. Just raw, unfiltered truth. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “I don’t even know you but you’re driving me crazy. You have to stop me.”
You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Instead, your lips curled into the faintest smile, bold, knowing, and it only fueled the fire already burning through his veins.
“The thing is, I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your breath to brush against his lips, “I don’t want you to be good or patient.”
The words punched through his last shred of restraint like they were designed to. And for a beat, all he could do was look at you—at the flush on your skin, the way your chest rose and fell a little too fast.
“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he warned, though it came out rougher than he intended, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, slower than necessary.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you shot back, quiet but sure—so sure—and, fuck, he was done for.
He wanted to win that little silent race, to see you snap but the truth was that he had lost from the start, he had no chance of winning.
So, when he finally kissed you, it wasn’t an attempt.
It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, in case it was the last time. The faintest hint of champagne lingered on your lips, but beneath it was something that made his heart slam harder against his ribs.
You kissed him back like you wanted this just as much as he did, your hands sliding up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deeper, making his jacket fall on the floor.
And Jay? He let himself fall into it. Into you.
Jay’s lips moved against yours, slow and thorough, but nothing about the way he touched you felt careful. His hands slid along your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your hip, squeezing you like he was memorizing the shape of you. Every brush of his skin against yours sent sparks racing through your body, and the heat pooling low in your stomach only grew stronger with each passing second.
His palms flattened against your lower back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies, until you could feel how much he really wanted you. He was warm, solid—everywhere—and the way he held you made your breath hitch.
You tugged lightly on the back of his neck. The muscles beneath your fingers were tense, and a shudder ran through him as your nails scraped gently against his skin. His breath hitched in response, and something about knowing you could unravel him like this made the heat in your blood burn hotter.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and frayed at the edges. His lips brushed over yours again, lingering like he was savoring the taste of you. But his hands, God, his hands, were anything but patient.
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up your spine, skimming beneath the hem of your dress as he went. The warmth of his touch against your bare skin felt a sharp, delicious shiver curling through you, and when his hand settled at the small of your back again, his grip tightened, so possessive like he wanted to keep you exactly where you were.
And you wanted to stay there.
You wanted more.
Your body arched instinctively into his, and Jay swore softly under his breath, his hold on you turning rougher, like he was losing the battle to keep himself in check. His fingers flexed at your hip, sliding lower, almost touching your ass before skimming back up, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you most.
And when your hand drifted from his neck to the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric, you felt the sharp rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm. His heart was racing and the realization felt another jolt of heat spiraling through you.
“Jay,” you breathed against his mouth, in such an intense and desperate tone, as if you needed him and his distance hurt you, and his response was immediate. His lips crashed back onto yours with a hunger that stole your breath, and the slow, careful rhythm shattered beneath the weight of all that tension.
He kissed you harder now, deeper. His tongue swept along your lower lip, and when you opened up for him, he groaned softly, a low, desperate sound that made your knees go weak.
His hand slid higher, dragging up your side, fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ribs. He didn’t stop there. He traced the outline of your body desperately, knuckles grazing the side of your breast before his palm flattened against your ribcage, holding you firmly against him.
“Is this okay?” He whispered against your lips.
“Yes, god, yes please Jay,” you whispered back and damn, if your breathy voice hadn’t completely destroyed him. He loved seeing you as desperate for him as he was for you.
He kissed you again. “You’re driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, and there was no teasing left in his voice. Just raw need. “I can’t—If you want me to stop say it because I fucking can’t.”
The response to those words of his was the way you grabbed his face and crashed your lips onto his again. “I don't want you to stop.”
Whatever fragile restraint he’d been clinging to snapped completely.
Jay’s hands tightened on your waist as he backed you against the wall, pressing you there like he needed to feel every inch of you against him.
His lips left yours just long enough to trail down your jaw, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He didn’t stop when he reached your neck. Instead, he tilted your head gently to the side, giving himself more access as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your throat and making you sigh in pleasure.
And when his teeth graced that sensitive spot just below your ear, you couldn’t hold back the soft sound that escaped your lips.
Jay froze at the sound—just for a second to control himself before he’d come in his pants. He groaned low in his throat, his mouth returning to yours in a kiss that was rougher now, messier, hungrier. Like hearing you fall apart pushed him over the edge.
One arm was around your waist as he held you so tightly it was almost impossible to move, while the other hand slid down, fingers spreading wide across your thigh. His thumb brushed slow circles against the sensitive skin there, inching higher with every pass. “Tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” he repeated.
But the way he touched you, the way his mouth lingered on yours, made it painfully clear he didn’t want to stop.
And neither did you.
“If you stop now, I might actually lose my mind.”
He chuckled before kissing you again as you pulled him closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss even further. Your hands cupped his face, his beard tickling your palms as he took your breath away completely.
He slid his hand up your thigh again, taking advantage of the slit of your dress to touch your skin, to squeeze it, to feel it, to press his fingers so deeply into it until they left their mark. He grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist, making his pelvis grind with yours and making you both moan into the kiss.
His lips trailed back down to your neck, licking and sucking every inch of skin he had access to. “I want you so fucking bad.” His breath was hot against your skin, and when he spoke again, his voice was nothing but a rough, desperate whisper.
“Oh my fucking god Jay,” you gasped, trying to keep your voice low as his hand slid on your ass, squeezing it until you almost moaned again. “I want you so much too… Please…”
His lips found yours again, a desperate, greedy kiss that only deepened the ache between you two. There was no hesitation, no slowing down. Every touch, every movement, felt like a need that couldn’t be contained. You could feel the heat rising between you, consuming both of you in a way that made everything else fade.
His hard dick pressed into you, and the pressure made your breath hitch, another moan escaping as you started to grind into him again. His mouth left yours only long enough to whisper your name, low, rough, like a command.
“God, I need to feel you,” he muttered against your skin, like he was about to break. His teeth grazed your ear before his lips closed around the sensitive spot just below it, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped again. It only turned him on even more, his hands moving and exploring every inch of you, as though he couldn’t get enough.
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his chest, pulling him even closer, matching the urgency of his movements. You wanted to rip that shirt off of him, you wanted to feel his skin under your fingers, touch him everywhere.
His lips trailed down to the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently as the strap of your dress slid down. The sensation made you pulse race beyond imagination, and you found yourself tugging at his shirt, eager to feel more of him.
“Jay, fuck,” you breathed again, voice trembling, and you pulled his face back to yours, crashing your lips together with the kind of hunger that mirrored his own. The kiss was messy, full of heat and need, and you lost yourself in it. You bit his lower lip, sucking it and making him groan. And, fucking hell, the sound was so sexy you felt it directly in your lower regions.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Y/n,” he muttered desperately. His fingers brushing over the lace of your underwear before slipping inside, feeling how wet you were. The contact was electric, and the sharp moan you let out almost made him come in his pants. “Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips.
“Yes, shit… Oh… Oh god Jay you feel so good please don’t stop,” you moaned, your body moving on instinct, a desperate need for more, and the words only seemed to unravel him further.
There was no turning back now, and for once in your life, it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
Summary: Jay Halstead isn’t a fan of Halloween—until a night of pumpkin carving, candy duty, and a cozy movie marathon with you changes everything. Between teasing, laughter, and a playful kiss, he discovers that Halloween is a little sweeter with you by his side.
Words:
Warnings or A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for Jay but here is a Halloween one!
“Pumpkin carving? No way.” Jay leaned back in his chair, giving you that don’t even start with me look.
You dangled the flyer in front of him. Annual Precinct Pumpkin Carving Contest! “You’ll love it. Team bonding, creative expression…” you grinned, “…a chance for me to totally destroy you.”
Jay huffed out a laugh. “Destroy me? With pumpkins? You can’t even open a jar of pickles without asking for backup.”
“That was one time,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Besides, I have artistic vision.”
“Oh, yeah?” He smirked. “What are you carving—stick figures?”
You leaned in close, voice dropping mock-serious. “For your information, I was thinking about a bat. Or maybe a cat. Something classic."
Jay snorted. “Yeah, nothing says classy like mutilated squash.”
You slapped the flyer onto his desk. “Admit it—you’re scared.”
His brows shot up. “Scared? Of carving a pumpkin?”
“Exactly. You’ve got combat training, a badge, all that tough-guy energy… but hand you a carving knife and suddenly you’re shaking in your boots.”
Jay gave a slow, sarcastic clap. “Nice try. You really think reverse psychology’s gonna work on me?”
You crossed your arms, smirking. “Worked well enough to get under your skin.”
A few hours later, you nearly choked on laughter when he showed up in the breakroom. He picked the biggest pumpkin on the table and sat down with a scowl, rolling his sleeves up like he was about to interrogate it.
“Glad you could join us,” you teased. “Want me to draw the triangle eyes for you, or can you handle that?”
“Just watch,” he muttered, knife already in hand.
An hour later, your pumpkin sported a lopsided ghost face. Jay’s? A precise Chicago skyline, sharp lines and perfect detail.
Everyone crowded around, impressed. He leaned back, smug. “What was that about me being scared?”
You gave him a long look before smirking. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you,” Jay said, nudging your pumpkin, “are terrible at this.”
“Maybe.” You grinned, eyes catching his. “But I make it look cute.”
For a second, his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Guess you do.”
—
Your porch light glowed warm against the chilly October night, the bowl of candy balanced on your lap as you sat bundled in a blanket. Beside you, Jay leaned casually against the railing, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, pretending he wasn’t secretly enjoying himself.
“I still don’t know how you roped me into this,” he muttered, watching a group of kids march up the walkway in mismatched superhero costumes.
You smiled sweetly. “Because you’re incapable of saying no to me.”
Jay’s eyebrow ticked. “That’s debatable.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” you teased, dropping fun-sized chocolate bars into little outstretched pumpkin buckets.
One of the kids stared up at Jay, eyes wide. “Are you a police officer?”
Jay gave a small nod, crouching down to their level. “That’s right.”
“Cool!” the kid grinned before running off with their friends.
You elbowed him lightly. “Look at you, neighborhood hero.”
He shook his head, but you caught the faint smile tugging at his lips.
A few minutes later, a group of older kids tried to sneak extra candy when you weren’t looking. Jay cleared his throat in that sharp, authoritative way that made even grown suspects freeze. The kids instantly dropped the extra bars back in the bowl and bolted down the driveway.
You burst out laughing. “Jay Halstead—guardian of justice, defender of Snickers.”
He shot you a flat look. “Glad you’re entertained.”
When the rush slowed down, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Without a word, Jay sat down beside you, tugging half the blanket across his lap too. The porch light caught the faint smile still playing on his lips as kids’ laughter echoed down the street.
“You know,” you said, voice quieter now, “you’re not half bad at this whole Halloween thing.”
Jay glanced at you, eyes warm. “Don’t get used to it.”
But the way he shifted just a little closer told you otherwise.
After the last trick-or-treater had gone home, you and Jay retreated inside, a half-empty candy bowl in hand. The faint smell of pumpkin candles filled the room, casting a soft glow as you dropped onto the couch.
Jay followed, plopping the candy down on the coffee table. “So, what now? We grade Snickers versus KitKats?”
You grinned, already queuing up a movie. “Scarier. Movie marathon.”
Jay gave you a look. “Define scarier.”
“Classic horror,” you said, settling in with a blanket. “Jump scares, creepy music, the whole deal.”
He exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “Great.” But he didn’t move away when you tugged the blanket so it draped over both of you.
The first loud scream came ten minutes in. You jumped, clutching the blanket tighter—only to realize Jay had also flinched.
You turned slowly, eyes wide with mock horror. “Did you just jump?”
“I did not,” he muttered, eyes glued to the screen.
“Oh, you so did.” You poked his side. “The tough detective, spooked by a fake monster.”
He cracked a reluctant smile. “You’re imagining things.”
The next scare had him tightening his jaw, shoulders tense. You couldn’t hold in your laughter.
“Unbelievable,” you teased. “You face down criminals with guns, but show you a creepy doll and you’re done for.”
Jay finally looked at you, amusement in his eyes. “Keep laughing and see what happens.”
“Something like that?” you said softly, leaning closer.
His gaze flickered to your lips for just a moment before he smirked. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”
You felt your cheeks warm, but before you could fire back, the next jump scare blasted from the TV. This time, you both jumped—and ended up colliding, his arm brushing yours under the blanket. Neither of you moved away.
“See?” you said softly, smiling. “Halloween’s not so bad.”
Jay’s arm slid around you, holding you close in the soft glow of the pumpkin candles. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Guess it’s not.”
The last movie ended well past midnight, the credits rolling across the screen while the room sat quiet except for the faint crackle of your candle. You stretched, yawning, and glanced over at Jay.
He was still on the couch, one arm resting along the back, the other hand lazily rifling through the candy bowl like he hadn’t just finished an entire marathon of horror movies.
“You know,” you said, smirking, “for someone who claimed he doesn’t do Halloween, you lasted longer than I thought.”
Jay huffed out a laugh, unwrapping a chocolate bar. “Lasted? You make it sound like I survived a war zone.”
“You basically did.” You grinned, nudging his knee with your foot. “Pumpkins, trick-or-treaters, scary movies. That’s the full Halloween experience.”
He popped the candy into his mouth, chewing slowly before admitting, “It wasn’t terrible.”
“High praise.” You teased. “Careful, Halstead, I might think you actually enjoyed yourself.”
His eyes met yours, steady and a little softer now. “Maybe I did.”
Something about the way he said it sent a flutter through your chest. You shifted closer under the blanket, your shoulder brushing his. “So… you’re saying I’ve officially converted you into a Halloween guy?”
Jay gave a low chuckle. “Let’s not go that far.” He paused, then added, quieter, “But… if it means spending the night like this, with you? Yeah. I could get used to it.”
You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me next year too.”
Jay’s arm slid around you, pulling you in closer. He leaned down just slightly, a playful glint in his eyes, and pressed a quick, teasing kiss to your temple.
“Promise?” he murmured against your hair.
“Promise,” you whispered, grinning.
For once, he didn’t argue—just held you close, the warmth of his presence mixing with the soft glow of the pumpkin lights outside. And somehow, Halloween had never felt sweeter.
8 days.
Millie had been trapped here for eight days. No escape. No strength left to fight back. No proof anyone was coming.
She wasn’t a cop built for battle. Not muscle. Not a weapon. She was the “book”—the “shrink.” The one who barely scraped through the academy, who talked her way into Intelligence with words instead of bullets.
Why would they come looking for her?
Why would he?
Jay Halstead.
The man who could read a room in seconds but never once looked at her long enough to see her. The man who got under her skin faster than trauma ever had. Who held her at arm’s length like she was a liability—only to pull her close, just to walk away again.
He hadn’t stood up for her. Not when it counted.
Not when the team had laughed. Not when she needed him to speak, to see.
She’d swallowed the humiliation. Tasted metal when she bit her tongue. Pride bleeding out between her teeth.
I hope I die before I lose myself.
Because if she broke in here, no one would care enough to find the pieces.
She wasn’t the hero. Just a file clerk in a bulletproof vest. A body behind a desk.
No guts. No glory.
Some of us are the ones that should’ve gotten away.
And maybe she was one of them.
Not the one who mattered.
Not to him.
Not to anyone.
—
Her head throbbed as she woke on a cold, concrete floor in some desolate warehouse on the far South Side—right at the edge of the city limits.
Her mouth tasted like metal—her own blood—slowly clotting after his elbow had collided with her jaw. No break, thankfully. But a dull, persistent ache lingered.
Her eyes cracked open, adjusting to the dim surroundings and the absence of… well, anything.
As the conditions came into focus, her eyes widened.
She looked down at her body, searching for trauma. Just dried blood on her shirt—presumably from her mouth.
And then she remembered—the way her head had snapped back, then righted itself. Whiplash.
Millie shuddered as her hand drifted to her temple, brushing against more dried blood.
Tears burned her eyes at the swelling beneath—a definite bruise.
She bit down. Hard.
She knew better.
Better than to cry.
Better than to scream.
Better than to beg.
They couldn’t know they’d gotten to her.
They had to think she was broken.
Maybe then… maybe then she could escape.
She coughed into her arm—force of habit—just before the screech of the metal door sliced through the silence.
He stepped in.
That face.
It had haunted her nightmares for years.
He grinned. A devil’s grin wrapped in sugar.
“Hi, Millie. Been a while, huh?” he said, settling into a wooden chair in the corner.
It took everything in her not to respond. Not to give him the satisfaction. But if she was honest—she’d wanted to kill him the second he stepped through that door.
The man who stole everything from her.
Maybe now was her time. Maybe now she’d rise to the occasion—guts and glory.
He tsked. “Aw, sweetie, don’t remember me? You’re breaking my heart.” He placed a mocking hand over his chest.
She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “You pretending not to feel anything? That shrink-mind bullshit isn’t gonna work on me, baby.”
His voice dripped with venomous sweetness, and it turned her stomach.
“What would your father say, hmm? What would Marcus—”
“Don’t you dare bring him up,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare say his name, Martin.”
His grin didn’t falter.
“Or what, baby? Hmm? What?”
She shook her head, lips curling into a snarl.
“You don’t get to say his name. Not after what you did.
Not after you murdered your own partner. My father.”
Her voice shook. Wobbled.
He just smiled.
“You knew it was me that night,” she whispered. “You knew he was taking me to that father-daughter dance. You knew exactly who I was—what I meant to him—and you still put a bullet in his head and made it look like suicide.”
He blinked once. Slow. Calculated.
Smug silence filled the room.
“He trusted you,” she spat. “Like a damn brother. And you covered it up. You made him look unstable. Left him with the weight of your crimes—and a bullet in his brain.”
Martin leaned back, comfortable in his lie.
“The department bought it. You know why? Because he was spiraling. I just gave them the ending they were already expecting.”
“You staged it,” she growled. “You made it real. And you kept going. Still on the force. Still undercover. Still playing the good guy—while you rot inside.”
He stood slowly, pacing.
“Don’t pretend you’re clean in all this.”
His voice was sharp now.
“You were ready to burn the whole thing down just to prove a point.”
Silence.
Then a sigh—low and bitter.
“But that’s what they don’t get about you.”
He glanced at her.
“The others... they think you’re soft. Safe. Just some desk jockey who’s in over her head.”
A pause. Longer this time.
“They don’t see the fire in your blood. The fire behind your eyes.”
He stepped closer, voice quieter.
“The same fire your father had. The kind that doesn’t die—it kills.”
He smirked. “I bet it’s the same fire Hank Voight has, hmm?”
She snarled.
“But they don’t know that. They don’t know how twisted you really are, do they, baby? Should we take a peek at your Med file?”
He reached into her bag, pulling out a stack of stolen case files.
“Oh yeah—these are golden. The entire Intelligence team, huh? Why, baby? Why do you have your own personal file cabinet on them… and yourself?”
He stepped closer, faces inches apart.
“Planning to play their game—or rewrite the rules?”
“And my favorite one of all: your childhood cat.” He raised a brow.
“You told me about her once. Third grade. White, with one black paw.
You cried when she died. I remember.”
Shame. Guilt. Rage. It all flooded her at once.
If he didn’t shut up, she was going to vomit.
“They don’t know, right? That your father covered for you?”
He flipped another page.
“Family cat found dead in the backyard. Cause: blunt force trauma.
Millie claimed the cat was ‘sick’ and ‘wouldn’t stop screaming.’ Said she ‘just wanted it to stop.’ Psych eval noted emotional detachment and a desire for control. When asked why she didn’t tell anyone, she said: ‘They wouldn’t have done anything.’ File sealed by Det. [REDACTED] following mother’s death.”
He shut the folder gently and laid it on the stack, smiling like the devil.
Tears burned behind her eyes.
He made it sound like a horror show. But he wasn’t there.
He didn’t hear the screams every night—the animal, not her mother, though both haunted her room.
The cat was dying. Millie had begged her father to take it to the vet, but they couldn’t afford another bill.
She didn’t know how to help. She was twelve.
She panicked.
And afterward, she never stopped feeling like a monster.
Her psych eval showed a paradox: a natural counselor who scored high on sensation-seeking and had a defiant streak that refused to back down, no matter the cost.
She wasn’t reckless.
But she wasn’t afraid of risk either.
"Your thinking doesn’t always align with what’s expected," the evaluator had said.
"It’s not the norm—some might even say it’s dangerous. But there’s intent behind it. Compassion. A refusal to let others suffer when you believe there’s another way."
And Hank... he’d seen it early, hadn’t he?
Back when she was just a kid, when he’d stop by for late dinners and midnight drinks, listening to the proud, worried stories her father told.
Tales of what she’d gotten into.
The messes. The moments.
The way she already saw the world bending at the seams—and tried to hold it together with both hands.
And now—he saw that spirit tenfold.
Quieter. Sharper. Calculated.
He saw it in the way her mind still worked like clockwork, always five steps ahead.
Always watching.
Always trying to save someone from the fire.
“You think no one noticed your late-night hangouts? What? He fucked you and ghosted you?”
“STOP!” she screamed, hands flying to her ears.
They hadn’t hooked up. They were just close friends.
But she didn’t know why Jay had started pulling away.
Their pizza nights. Their coffees. Their long walks after tense cases.
All of it had slowed—then stopped.
The shoulder she used to lean on was gone.
Did he know?
Martin chuckled and walked toward the metal door.
“Think it over, baby. I’ll be back.”
The door clanged shut.
She exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Tears fell. Her body trembled.
Was she the reason Jay disappeared?
Or worse—was he next?
__
day two.
Gods, her body ached.
It felt like death—fire in her veins, every limb breaking at the seams.
Martin had already been in that day. Said he had to go on patrol, promised he’d be back before midnight.
He always knew what buttons to press. How to twist grief into guilt, guilt into shame. That was Martin’s superpower: redefining reality until you questioned whether you were ever good in the first place.
That’s what her father had loved about him. When he still had a grip on reality. Before the cancer made him cruel. Before bitterness swallowed the man who used to braid her hair and make up songs to stop her tears.
She’d spent years in grief counseling after her mother died. Spent even longer learning to name her feelings instead of running from them.
But trauma doesn’t evaporate. It lingers. Lurks.
And in moments like this—abandoned, bloodied, betrayed—it surged as if it had never left.
And yet, she was still here.
Tied up in metal chains. Cold concrete beneath her—hard, unforgiving.
Exactly what she was.
Martin had brought up Jay again. His file. The one she had been working on, for her own files. He mentioned what Jay clearly meant to her—the late-night hugs, the hand-holds outside their respective places when he’d been following her.
That didn’t surprise her.
Of course, Martin had been planning something. He was always the planner. Her dad had always been the muscle.
Her mind drifted to the first time she saw Jay.
She’d just graduated from the academy a week prior—barely scraped by—and was partnered with Sean Roman at the Twenty-First Precinct.
Trudy had made some sarcastic comment that bit deeper than intended. Something about how fun it’d be to watch Millie on patrol for a day before she quit the force.
But Millie didn’t give her the satisfaction.
Sure, she was a bit reckless. She knew that.
She and Roman were called to a stakeout that spiraled into an ambush—guns drawn, nerves fried—when Hailey was pulled into a chokehold, a knife pressed to her throat.
God, Millie had been such a fool. Reckless. Dangerous.
Timid. Naive. Dumb, they’d called her.
She lowered her gun to the floor.
Stepped slowly past the officers pressed against hallway walls and doorframes, toward the man holding Hailey—who was panting in panic.
“Hey, man. I promise they won’t do anything,” she began, stepping between Jay and Hank, who stood at the front.
She raised her arms.
“You don’t think I understand how you feel? You think you’re the only one backed into a corner, no way out, no one coming to help? Think again.”
The suspect’s eyes darted, pupils blown wide with desperation. His grip on the blade tightened.
Millie didn’t flinch.
“You don’t think I know what it’s like to lose a parent?” she continued, voice calm. “To lose someone you love? Especially at the hands of a cop?”
The room shifted. The unit exchanged glances. Rookie or not—what the hell was she saying?
But Hank… Hank knew.
He knew who she was.
And in that moment, he began to suspect what had happened.
“If you want to hurt someone to make them feel what you’re feeling—take me.” Her voice cracked, just barely. “I can handle it. I promise. You want someone who might actually feel it with you? You’re looking at her.”
Silence.
She took a step closer.
“But ask yourself this: Do you want to die… or are you just tired of surviving?”
Her eyes locked with the assailant’s.
They both started to cry.
He pulled Hailey to the ground gently, and Millie knelt beside them.
“Let us help you,” she said softly. “You don’t want to do this, Julio. I promise.”
“Give me the knife, Julio. I promise—you’ll get the help you need.”
Then, with a hint of sarcasm:
“If you hurt me, I will be very hurt.”
She reached for the knife. Julio’s hands trembled as he passed it to her.
Julio gave it up.
Hailey sagged, backing away. Jay moved quickly to catch her. His eyes never left Millie.
Antonio and Adam swept in, cuffing him and taking him out the back door.
Millie had been reckless. Yes. Dangerous.
But she’d proven herself.
She wasn’t the muscle.
She was the brains—with enough nerve to stare down a criminal without blinking.
She walked out beside Roman, who nudged her shoulder.
“Not bad, Shrink,” he muttered.
Jay caught that. So did Kim.
Millie rolled her eyes. She hated that nickname.
“Hm,” she grunted.
“Good job back there, officer—” Jay started, then paused when she smiled.
“Evans. Officer Evans.”
She looked to Roman.
“We call her Shrink because she’s a doctor of psychology,” he teased.
A doctor.
She grimaced, sighing.
“Have a good day, officers,” she said, eyes flicking between Jay and Kim, then lingering on Jay.
And then she turned, walking back to the patrol car.
Jay watched as she seemed to shrink into herself—Roman’s words gnawing at her.
Curiosity gnawed at him, too.
Until the day she joined Intelligence as their book and brains.
That was the day Hank Voight finally recognized her—not as the new asset, but as the daughter of an old friend.
She was no longer the child he once knew.
She no longer went by Murphy.
She went by Evans now.
A shield.
A separation.
A choice born from survival.
__
Martin had been at psychological warfare for six hours now — beating her, kicking her ribs, yanking the chains on her wrists until they were bloody and raw.
But the worst damage wasn't physical.
He poisoned her mind.
Told her her father never loved her. That she was a problem — too much. Whispered what the Intelligence Unit really thought of her, what they were doing right now — drinking at Molly’s without a care in the world. Twisted Jay’s silence into betrayal.
And then he rewrote the night her father died.
Swore it wasn’t suicide. Swore Hank killed him.
And the worst part?
She believed him.
Millie was rotting from the inside out. Five days of fighting — every manipulation, every trick — and now?
She was too weak.
Too dehydrated.
Too starved.
And her mind? Clawing at the edge, desperate for one truth to hold onto.
“What is it? Can’t handle the truth? Maybee you were boring? Predictable? Calculated? Unlovable?”
He laughed.
And maybe...
Maybe she was.
She sagged in the chair, pain radiating through every inch of her. The chains clinked as her arms dangled, metal embedded into her skin like a second skeleton.
Then one last blow.
He struck the back of her head.
Everything went black.
A fucking game.
All of it. Twisted. Rehearsed.
Millie’s body shut down. Her subconscious retreated into the only safe space left:
Memory.
A Month Earlier.
Jay had been over at her place in the Loop. They’d ordered two pizzas — her deep dish, his tavern-style — and were sharing red wine.
They hadn’t spent time together in weeks.
Jay had been quiet. Off. Not the steady Jay she knew.
Even at work, he'd been distant. Dodging calls. Leaving her out of conversations. Not obvious — just enough to make her question everything.
Now they were on her couch, laughing over Adam and Kevin’s antics. They’d just closed a fifteen-year-old kidnapping case. The motive?
Revenge.
Millie’s smile faded. The case felt too familiar.
Like her childhood.
Like her father’s death.
Jay noticed and tapped her knee.
“You okay?”
She nodded faintly.
“Yeah… just a long week.”
She set her plate down.
“Thanks for staying this week. The case... it brought everything back. I felt fifteen again. The night my dad died.”
Jay blinked. She’d never told him this.
“You don’t think it was suicide?”
She shook her head.
“No. I was upstairs. Just a few rooms away. And something’s never added up.”
He listened, silent.
“He was undercover. He told Hank and Al — if something happened, it wouldn’t be an accident. Martin, his partner, said grief drove him to do it. Said I was too much. A problem child.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I wasn’t. My dad loved me. But they closed the case. No one believed him. They thought Hank was covering his ass.”
Jay’s chest tightened.
He remembered her outside interrogation the other day — broken, shaken. He’d pulled her in, wordless, held her as she sobbed.
She remembered too — and regretted it.
“You must think I’m weak,” she said, grabbing her wine and standing.
Jay caught her wrist.
Their eyes met.
“Never,” he said. Steady. Certain.
She gave him a faint smile, then walked into the kitchen.
Jay stayed seated. That’s when he saw it — the edge of a manila folder in her tote.
He hesitated, then reached for it.
Marcus Murphy. Her father.
Inside: the case file. Her notes. Theories. Questions. Accusations.
Voight. Al. Martin. All annotated.
At the bottom: a photo. Millie at fifteen. Fierce eyes. Forced smile.
Present Day.
Jay bolted upright.
“Voight! We need to check Millie’s. There’s a file. Evidence. I saw it.”
Her apartment.
The living room was a crime board. A detective’s mind mapped out in red string and Post-Its.
Photos. Notes. Maps. Profiles.
Martin — DANGER.
A “Suspects” section: only one name in red.
HANK VOIGHT —What they all said.
Jay’s breath caught.
On the mantle: the folder. Waiting.
Pinned above it:
He has me.
Jay —
You saw it. You read between the lines.
You saw the fear in my eyes.
You know why I left the room. Why I left it here.
I left a trail because you always saw me clearly.
Don’t look for him.
But take him down when he shows.
— Millie
It wasn’t just a trail.
It was a lifeline.
__
day eight.
3:43 PM. Millie called.
Jay tore off his headset. “Trace it. South Side. Industrial block. Near the old slaughterhouse.”
Voight didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the ringing line.
“Line two,” the desk sergeant said. “They say they're Millie.”
Voight grabbed it. “Voight.”
Static. Then her voice, broken:
“Hank?”
“Please—don’t come after me. Don’t come after him.”
“Millie? Are you hurt?”
“Chained to a wall. Listening to him whisper how horrible you are as a human being.”
“We’re coming.”
“No. That’s what he wants. I have to be the shield, Hank. To protect you.”
A beat.
“No,” she whispered. “I protected the only one who still gave a damn about him.”
Jay froze. “Her dad…”
Voight already knew.
“Martin murdered him. I was fifteen. Getting ready for a stupid father-daughter dance.”
“He was building a case on you,” she added. “Thought you were dirty.”
“I know.”
“What?”
“I was cleared. Martin wasn’t. I always knew. Your father he-he warned me. Told Al and me about it while undercover.”
“He’s going to kill me, Hank. And I didn’t stop it in time. Didn't stall him long enough.”
“You left a trail. We found it.”
Millie’s voice trembled, almost breaking:
“I prayed you’d see me... even if I wasn’t the same — if I changed my name, disappeared... that you wouldn’t forget.”
Jay’s eyes locked on hers, steady and sure.
“Never, Millie. I could never forget you.”
A tremble.
“Please don’t let him hurt you. You’re all that's left of him.”
The only one who can keep his memory alive & bring down Martin.
“Millie—”
But the line exploded with noise — footsteps, metal scraping.
“Oh God—he’s coming— I have to go—”
“Millie—!”
A scream. Then silence.
She was out cold.
Martin dragged her limp body across the floor, unhooking her wrists, pulling her into the next room — the one with a ditch filled with glass shards and jagged, rusted blades.
Her unconscious mind spiraled. Memory on loop.
Jay.
She had already fallen for him. In their silences. In the way he made her feel seen — her instincts, her fire, even her doubts.
He told her she kept the team sane. Said they wouldn’t have solved half their cases without her.
But one memory haunted her most.
That day in the joint Narcotics-Intelligence briefing.
Narcotics had sneered at her, mocked her, spit the old nickname like poison: the shrink. They whispered that her father — once the proud head of Narcotics — would be ashamed of her if he were still alive. Barely scraping through the academy. Laughable.
What gutted her wasn’t their cruelty. It was the silence of her own unit.
Not one of them stood up for her.
They let it happen. Watched her burn under the weight of their jeers. Intelligence offered no defense — just tight smiles, awkward chuckles, complicit nods. Even Jay had laughed once, when a nickname landed sharper than intended, as she stumbled through her case briefing, swallowing tears and fury and pride.
She left that meeting ready to walk away. From the badge. From all of it.
Because how could she trust a team to protect her out there, when they wouldn’t even defend her in the room?
Especially Jay.
It tainted her view of him — maybe even cracked the pedestal she’d put him on.
What she didn’t know was this:
Two days later, Voight walked into Narcotics unannounced. No warnings. No pleasantries. He tore them to shreds — every last one. Made it clear Millie was more than capable, more than enough. That she had earned her place, and anyone who said otherwise would answer to him.
Hank had seen her. All of her. Flaws, fears, fire.
And when the time came, he believed — no, knew — she’d rise.
__
She awoke in the other room, panic instantly rising as her eyes landed on the gun beside her, knives scattered nearby, and a ditch filled with glass shards and jagged, rusted blades.
Her mind raced to the team—knowing they wouldn’t find her in time. Knowing Martin would win, once again.
She thought of the last time she saw them, the last time she heard their voices.
day zero.
Jay had FaceTimed her at Molly’s, Jay had FaceTimed her at her townhouse, urging her to get out for the night. He said she needed a break — She’d said no—buried in timelines and piecing together her dad’s murder.
She had finally cracked the case. Every bit of it.
But Jay’s face had brightened when she picked up. The way his eyes twinkled when she spoke. The way he and the team all said they wanted her there.
Then Jay softened his voice. “We can stop at that French café that just opened down the street... they’re open 24 hours... get crepes on the way home.”
He grinned, teasing, knowing she’d cave at the mention of crepes. She rolled her eyes but glanced down at the manila folder at her feet, and Jay caught her pause.
“Fine. One drink. Then crepes, Halstead,” she giggled.
He saluted playfully. “Scout’s honor, Dr. Evans.”
She smiled. “See you in like an hour—gonna grab the L.”
Jay nodded. “Be safe.”
“Always. Scout’s honor,” she hummed, then hung up—letting the call linger a moment longer, memorizing the curves and nooks of his face. His godforsaken face.
And she thought of her adoration for him, despite the sting of that narcotics meeting—how her heart fluttered at the thought of never seeing him again. Never being near him again. Never finishing that damn kiss he shied away from—the night they had pizza and left the manila folder out for him.
Her gut screamed that something was coming.
She’d made her bed with instinct and knowing.
And Martin was going to force her to lie in it.
She set the case file down on the fireplace and sighed.
Grabbing her black tote, stuffed with photocopies of intelligence files, herself, and related documents, she left the originals safely inside her townhouse.
Then she stepped outside. The gate clicked shut behind her.
And just like that—she vanished.
__
Millie had barely been conscious for five minutes when his gun pressed to her temple, his arm hooked around her throat—her airway slowly collapsing.
She waited. Pins and needles. For the team to burst in, guns drawn, yelling. A chaotic rescue.
But they weren’t coming.
So she calmed herself. Slipped into the rhythm of years of trauma and shadow work. The practices. The breathing. The stillness.
She pictured the lakefront. Sunrise. Coffee in hand. Chicago humming awake. Her city.
Her breathing steadied. Her mind slowed. Peace—before death.
Maleficent "Millie" Evans stood in the middle of a grimy, dim warehouse, a beam of sunlight slicing through a cracked window and catching on her trembling hands. The metal of the gun at her temple stayed cold. Steady. But it wasn’t the steel that hurt—it was the silence. The silence from the people she called family.
The precinct. Radios humming. Boots on linoleum. The places she never truly belonged. The conversations that died when she entered. The dismissive laughter.
“Soft. The book. The brain.”
At her last narcotics briefing, a few officers had laughed. “Smart enough to stay off the line. Not a real cop.” Even some in Intelligence had smirked.
Jay, too. He never meant it cruelly, she told herself. His teasing about her living far from the team. His jokes about coffee over camaraderie. But maybe—maybe he believed it, too.
She swallowed hard. Bitter tears burning.
They’re not coming.
They don’t love me like I love them.
“You see that?” the kidnapper hissed. “They think you’re nothing. Replaceable. Weak. Nimble. The soft one. The book. That’s what they all called you, right?”
Her breath caught. Her fists clenched until her nails dug into her palms.
I’m useless. I’m not enough. I’m not like them.
She remembered the nights she stayed late. The victims she held until dawn. The files she read until her eyes burned. The training. The effort. The trying.
Still... just a footnote.
Then—movement. A shadow in the corner of her eye.
Hank. Jay.
Voight, jaw like stone. Jay, eyes locked on hers.
A flicker. A flame.
She wouldn’t break.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” she cried to the team, voice tight but sharp.
The negotiator. Always the calm. The steady. Like it was instinct.
The kidnapper’s whisper cut deep, loud enough for them all to hear:
“You’re a fucking coward. Just like your father. You meant nothing. You are nothing. You’ll never be anything.”
She flinched. Grimaced. But no tears.
Just memories. Nightmares. Of laughter behind backs. Of men who questioned her presence.
The book. The one who slipped through.
She no longer looked like the woman Jay had started to love. The one he was going to tell—over crepes, that night.
The night that never came.
Everyone thought she was broken.
The psychologist, shattered.
Let them.
She’d play the part. An actress. The best damn performance of her life. Because she knew: Martin would shrink. Sag. Slip. He always did, when he thought he’d won.
She had rehearsed the line for months:
“I can’t... I can’t keep doing this,” she sobbed, voice cracking with exhaustion. “He’s right. I’m not strong. I’m not like you. I’m not a cop. I just—” her voice hitched, a tear sliding down her cheek, “I just wanted to help people. Understand them. That’s all I ever fucking wanted.”
The gun dug deeper. Her skin clammy. Her breath calm. Her eyes locked forward.
On them.
Shouting echoed.
“Let her go!” “Drop it now!” “Do it and we’ll all walk away!”
And then—
Jay.
“Don’t do anything. Don’t—”
His voice cracked. It cut through her like lightning.
Her body screamed. Wrists bloodied. Knees aching. Eight days. Eight days gone.
And she had believed it.
That they weren’t coming.
That she didn’t matter.
Now?
She stood before them. Half-dead. Bloodied. A noose around her neck.
“If you wanna shoot someone,” she rasped, “shoot me.”
Silence.
She took a raw breath.
“Shoot me. Don’t let him win.”
Her voice cracked. But her eyes scanned them all.
Kevin, furrowed. Kim, trembling. Hailey, pacing.
Voight.
Then—Jay.
She always looked at him the longest.
“Shoot me. Let me die first.”
And then, the kidnapper sneered again.
“You hear that? Nothing. You’re nothing. The soft one. The book. That’s all you’ll ever be.”
She shook her head. Silent tears now.
“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot—don’t shoot…”
Jay moved.
Voight stopped him with a single arm.
But Millie kept going. Trembling. Collapsing inward.
Then—she felt it.
The shift.
His grip slackened.
Not fear.
Arrogance.
He thinks I’m broken.
Good.
She sagged. Shifted.
He moved to follow.
She struck.
Elbow to gut. Heel to shin. Twist. Downward weight. Wrist locked.
Just like week two in the academy.
The gun fell into her hands.
The team rushed.
Jay sprinted.
Kevin tackled the suspect. Over. Fast.
Jay didn’t stop.
He ripped the gun from her hands. Pulled her in.
“Hey—hey, I got you—” his voice, a whisper.
She collapsed into him. Sobbing. Shaking.
He held her tight. One arm around her waist. One hand behind her head.
“I got you,” he whispered. “You’re okay. I got you.”
Her fingers curled in his vest like she’d drown without it.
Behind them, chaos. Orders. Cuffs. Rage.
But all she heard was Jay.
“You’re not replaceable.”
She lifted her head. Eyes swollen.
He looked at her like she was everything.
“You hear me?” he said. “You’re not the book. You’re the whole fucking library.”
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
For the first time in eight days—
She believed him.
__
It had been three weeks since her rescue. Twenty-one long days.
She’d spent the first three—seventy-two hours—in a voluntary psychiatric hold. The moment she arrived at the hospital, Dr. Charles Daniels was waiting. They greeted each other like old friends—two professionals who’d been through this before.
She didn’t see Jay during those days. He waited anxiously, counting every hour, every minute, until she was cleared.
And when she was—good luck to anyone who tried to pull her away from him.
They were making up for lost time in every sense. But more than that, he was there to hold her when she cried. To catch her when she slipped back into that dark room in her mind.
Above all, he was there to keep her safe.
He didn’t trust the loop. Didn’t trust the townhouse she rented. Didn’t trust the thought of her being alone.
So without questions or hesitation, he took her home—to his home.
He took time off work just to be with her. To help her breathe, readjust, remember who she was beyond the trauma. To remind her she wasn’t alone.
A week into staying with him, she cracked.
She told him everything—her childhood, the good, the bad, and the ugly. The parts she’d hidden even from herself.
She told him about the offer from Quantico. The Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU.
He asked if she was seriously considering it.
She told him the truth: she was.
She knew she was meant for more than Intelligence. More than the CPD. Not out of arrogance, but quiet confidence.
And he believed her.
He was proud. Happy for her.
Because if anyone was meant for more—it was her.
__
It had been four nights now.
Four nights waking tangled in his sheets, his breath warm against the back of her neck, her hand curled instinctively against his chest—like it belonged there. Like she belonged there.
She didn’t fight it anymore.
Neither did he.
They hadn’t said the words aloud, but they didn’t need to. It was in the way his fingers always found hers during movies, how he’d brush her hair behind her ear mid-sentence, how he made sure her favorite coffee was stocked before she even asked.
She’d let herself fall—and this time, she wasn’t catching herself. She didn’t need to. He was there.
This morning was quiet. Soft. The gray light of pre-dawn filtered through the curtains in his bedroom, casting faint lines over the blanket pulled halfway off their tangled bodies.
Millie blinked slowly, adjusting to the stillness. Jay was still asleep, his arm slung lazily around her waist, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that lulled her even now. She nestled closer for a moment, absorbing the warmth, the safety.
Then—her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She stilled, blinking again. It was early. Too early for anything casual. Carefully, she twisted from Jay’s hold, trying not to wake him as she leaned over and grabbed it.
Unknown number.
But the area code—it was familiar.
She swiped to answer and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Dr. Evans. It’s Agent Hotchner, from the Bureau,” he said, voice steady but gentle.
Her eyes widened.
“Good morning, Agent Hotchner,” she replied, shifting upright in bed. “How can I help you?”
“I just wanted to check in—see how you’re doing and whether you’ve come to a decision yet. We heard about what happened, and I want you to know, first and foremost, your well-being matters most.”
Her breath caught for a moment. “I’m doing much better now, thank you. I appreciate you reaching out.” She paused, then added, “And about your offer… I’ve thought about it. Right now, there are things I need to take care of here in Chicago. So, for today at least, I’ll have to decline the position in Quantico.”
There was a quiet beat before he responded. “Not a problem at all, Dr. Evans. We’ll keep a desk warm for you in the meantime. And if you’re interested, I know the Chicago office would be lucky to have you.”
A small, genuine smile curled her lips. “I’d love nothing more than that, Agent Hotchner.”
“Excellent. I’ll forward the papers your way. See you soon, Dr. Evans.”
The line clicked off.
Beside her, Jay stirred, his arm still draped over her waist. As he shifted, the brush of his fingers against her skin raised goosebumps.
“Who was that?” he asked, voice rough with sleep as he rubbed his eyes.
“Oh, just an agent from the Bureau,” she said casually, but he gave her a look—half grin, half knowing smirk.
“They offered you a job in Quantico, didn’t they?” he said, sitting up slightly.
She sighed and set her phone on the bedside table. “Yeah. I turned it down. Told them I had unfinished business here. Though... they offered me a spot in the Chicago office.”
Jay’s grin widened. That spark in his eyes lit her stomach on fire.
“The Bureau?” he said, sliding closer. “I always knew you were destined for bigger things, Missy.”
Then he kissed her. One of those deep, molten, heart-shaking kisses that made her toes curl and her insides melt.
When she pulled away just a few inches, she whispered, “Really?” Her voice soft, a flicker of doubt hidden in her words.
He chuckled, eyes lifting like he was thanking the universe. “Oh, most definitely. Clocked it the first day we worked together on the Lion’s case.”
She laughed, the memory flickering across her face.
“But you’re staying here… because of us. Because of me,” he said quietly, reading between every word she hadn’t said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Hmm. Seems my little psychology lessons have finally paid off. Reading between the lies now, are we?”
“Very much,” he murmured, pulling her close again as the white comforter fell over both of them.
Giggles slipped from her lips.
eeeeek -- hope u enjoyed! please like, reblog & comment - id love to hear feedback🫶🏻
A/N: Short one because I haven't released something for Jay in way too long! This has been sitting in my WIP drafts for the longest time so I finally got it written! An anon requested something similar for Will but since I had a half-written fic, I finished this and posting this instead! As always thanks to bestie @seatsbythepit for being my beta queen~!
JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST
You hadn’t thought this through.
It sounded like an innocent enough date when Jay had asked if you wanted to go watch the game. You hadn't been dating for long, and every day felt a little unreal in a ‘I can’t believe Jay Halstead wants to go out with me’ kind of way, and you appreciated every opportunity you got to spend with Jay especially since you never knew if he would have to go undercover or spend nights at the district trying to clear a case.
But now that the game was approaching, you were in a bit of a panic.
You enjoyed watching a game, but you didn’t always know what you were watching or doing, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let Jay see that side of you.
“Y/N, everything okay?” Kelly’s voice interrupted your internalized panic and you glanced up.
“Ah, I should have thought of you!” You proclaimed, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from the squad lieutenant. “I need your help.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow but chuckled before nodding toward his office.
You thanked all the stars that it was a quieter shift. After all, an entirely quiet shift didn’t exist at Firehouse 51. But at least that’s the way you liked it.
Kelly gave you a crash course, but not without reminding you that you owed him one. You spent the rest of the downtime studying it so that at least you’d have something smart to say, even though there were a few times you wondered what the hell you were doing.
Hard work indeed paid off.
You walked out of the game, feeling a little embarrassed as Jay’s friends gushed over you.
“Jay, you got a good one. My girlfriend doesn’t even want to come to games with me.” One of his buddies quipped.
Jay laughed, putting an arm around you and grinning. “Hey, should I be worried? What if you guys just call her for the games instead?”
The laughter rumbled through the group as they all nodded, teasing Jay that they’d rather call you instead of him in the future.
You really did owe Kelly one.
As his friends dispersed, calling that Jay had better bring you out for the next game, Jay’s phone rang.
You nodded at him, telling him he’d better take it, assuring him that you and Will wouldn’t leave him behind.
Jay took the call from Voight, glancing toward where you and Will were talking as he nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be right in.”
Jay could feel the dread in his gut, that felt just a little too much like guilt that he had to blow off again tonight even though he’d promised a nice after-game dinner and maybe some drinks and cuddling.
“This is why you don’t promise anything, Jay.” He mumbled to himself, before he walked back toward the both of you.
“Hey, Y/N, I…”
You glanced at the look on Jay’s face and just smiled. “Gotcha.”
“Sorry.” Jay couldn’t even say anything more because everything else in his head sounded like an excuse.
“I’m not saying I’m not disappointed, because I kinda am. But I get it. And if these were bells going off for the ambulance, I’d do the same thing you’re doing now. So, go.” You paused. “But you owe me a mind-blowing date.”
Jay laughed and nodded. “That, I definitely do.”
You shot him a huge smile and headed off toward Jay’s truck to wait because you knew he’d at least take you home before heading back down to wherever he was supposed to go.
Will watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and awe before he glanced at his younger brother.
“Jay?” Will called, before Jay and him headed off in different directions.
Jay glanced up at Will and Will smiled. “You better marry that girl.”
THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
The Fragile Bonds Part 7 || Jay and Will Halstead x Halstead Sister
Summary: After their father's death, Becca moved in with Jay. This is the first time the detective brother has to go undercover since his sister has been under his full care, creating a challenging situation for both. Reluctantly, Becca will have to live with Will and his family during those days, even though she doesn't feel very welcome in that household.
Note: I am so sorry. I have lots of messages from you asking me about this fic. I'm back! And I'm here to finish it :) I hope you like it! Enjoy!
Part 1 Part 4
Part 2 Part 5
Part 3 Part 6
The streets lost their peace as soon as the Intelligence Unit arrived, their sirens breaking the silence. Blue and red lights from their cars filtered into the houses of the neighborhood. The peaceful night was over.
The signal from the phone led them to the park where Becca had stopped hours before, where she realized she was lost.
Soon enough, the park filled with detectives trying to find any clue about Becca’s whereabouts.
“Becca!” Jay shouted. “Beccs, it’s me!”
It was obvious she wasn’t in the park, but there wasn’t any physical evidence that she had been there either.
“There’s a chance the phone is still here,” Kevin said as they moved around the park.
Still calling his sister’s name, Jay started checking the trash cans alongside Olinsky. Meanwhile, Hailey moved deeper into the park, sweeping her light across the ground, hoping to find a trace, though at the same time afraid of what she might actually discover.
On the other side, Kim Burgess searched for any CCTV or Ring camera that could lead them to little Halstead. Makayla was on her mind. Having gone through something similar herself, she could feel Jay’s desperation, his sense of losing control.
It hit too close.
She remembered the fear. The waiting. The uncertainty. The way every second stretched into something unbearable. She knew exactly what it meant to be on the other side of this and she wasn’t going to let Jay go through that if there was anything she could do to stop it.
She could see it in Jay’s eyes, he couldn’t hide it. The fear was there, in his voice, in the way he moved, in the edge he couldn’t quite control. And she remembered how he had done everything to find Makayla.
For a brief second, the worst-case scenario crossed her mind, uninvited and unwanted. Her jaw tightened.
Not tonight.
Jay wasn’t going to lose Becca. They weren’t going to lose Becca.
Her eyes scanned every house more carefully now, more urgently. A porch light. A camera. A shadow moving behind a curtain, anything that could give them something to work with.
They were going to find her. And they were going to find her safe.
Within seconds, another patrol car arrived on the scene.
“We’ve got nothing on the sex offenders, but there will be a patrol checking on them,” Adam reported. “What do you have?”
“Nothing,” Burgess replied quickly. “No trace of her… yet.”
They didn’t need to say it out loud to understand what they were both thinking, having gone through the same kind of fear together.
Burgess spotted a house facing the park, a small camera mounted above the front door.
“But we’ll hopefully get something soon.”
She hurried up the walkway and knocked firmly. “Chicago P.D., open up, please!”
A few seconds, though they felt like minutes, passed before the porch light flicked on.
The lights of the next house turned on as well, and a woman stepped out onto her porch, hugging a robe around herself. She looked around, confused by the number of officers in the park.
“What’s going on?” she asked raising her voice to be heard.
Without hesitation, Adam walked toward her, pulling up a picture on his phone.
“We’re searching for a missing girl” he said calmly. “This is the last place we were able to trace her. Have you seen her, ma’am?”
He held up the screen, showing Becca’s picture.
“I’m sorry, no,” she said, her voice tinged with worry. “But an elderly man lives in that house. I don’t think he has anything to do with it… do you?”
“We’re just trying to get any footage that might help us find her. Do you have a Ring camera or any other security system facing the street?”
“Oh, absolutely,” the woman said.
Adam nodded and followed her inside, casting a quick glance toward Burgess, who was still knocking on the neighboring door.
The door opened slightly for Kim, an older man peeking out, confused and uneasy.
“Can I help you?” He said with a shaky voice.
“Sorry to bother you at this hour, sir. Detective Burgess, Intelligence Unit,” Kim said, flashing her badge. “We’re looking for a missing girl. I noticed you have a camera facing the street, we need to see the footage.”
The man hesitated, glancing past her toward the flashing lights down the block.
“Uh… okay. Do you have a warrant?”
“Sir, you’re not in trouble, and I’m not accusing you of any crime. We have a missing juvenile,” she replied, steady but urgent. “Time matters in cases like this. If your camera caught anything tonight, it could help us find her and bring her back to her family sooner.”
The man looked toward his neighbor and noticed she was also talking to a cop, then nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, you can check it. Come in. My son installed it for me, I just don’t know how it works.”
Meanwhile, Becca kept walking through the cold, second-guessing every turn, no longer certain she was heading anywhere at all.
“I don’t remember this,” she muttered to herself, trying—and failing—to stay calm. “But we haven’t visited Mom in a while… maybe things have changed…”
Her feet were frozen, red and aching, but at the same time she could barely feel them. She wondered if taking off her wet socks would help, but she kept them on. She didn’t stop moving, because stopping meant getting colder.
“If I go back the way I came… maybe I can find Will’s house?” It was difficult to articulate, she was shivering from the cold. “No… no, I don’t think so. I’m really lost now.”
That thought brought back a memory, something familiar. A line from Alice in Wonderland, one of the books Mr. Olinsky had sent for her through Jay.
She had memorized it back then, when she’d felt just as lost as Alice. She muttered it under her breath, trying to keep her eyes open:
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where—” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
“—so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added.
“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
The girl let out a weak breath. The exhaustion was taking over; she could fall asleep at any moment.
“Yeah… not the same,” she stuttered through the cold.
“We’re losing time. We should be moving now!” Jay insisted.
“Easy,” Olinsky said calmly.
“This is where you received her last call from,” Platt added trying to ease his anxiety. “There has to be something, anything.”
Jay forced himself to breathe. He was good under pressure, always had been. It was one of the things that defined him in the field, no matter how bad a case got, how messy or violent, he stayed sharp, focused and in control.
But this was different. This wasn’t just a name on a file. The cracks were there, impossible to hide in the way his hands wouldn’t stay still, the way his eyes kept darting, searching for something that wasn’t there. In the sharp edge of his voice every time he spoke.
The same questions kept rolling in his mind over and over again: What if she was hurt? What if she was alone somewhere, scared, calling for him? What if he was already too late?
He had worked in so many cases like this one… What if it was already too late?
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and with that movement, his flashlight shifted and caught something in the grass.
“Hey, what’s that?” Olinsky asked.
It was shiny.
Hailey spotted it from a distance, her heart instantly picking up speed. She crouched down to pick it up and Jay stepped closer.
For a second, he didn’t react. He bent down and picked it up with shaking hands.
It was a bracelet. Small and delicate. It was familiar. He knew it, but didn’t want to admit it, still, his body reacted.
“This is hers.” he said urgently.
“Becca never takes it off.” Hailey pointed out.
The weight of that realization hit all of them at once.
“It’s good,” Voight argued, controlling his tone. “It means she was here. And there’s a chance she still is. So let’s move.” His tone increased in some sort of anger.
But at that exact moment, their radios crackled. It was Burgess:
I’ve got something on the footage.
Within seconds, the team regrouped inside the house, crowding around as the Ring camera video replayed on the screen.
The image was grainy, but they all recognized Becca’s silhouette as she entered the frame on the sidewalk just outside the park.
“That’s her,” Jay said, leaning in closer. “No doubt.”
She was walking slowly, tired, her phone pressed to her ear, glancing around like she wasn’t sure where to go next.
Lost.
“She’s scared,” he added with a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t have to see her facial expressions to know that.
“Play it again,” Voight ordered.
They watched as she hesitated, then turned.
“She saw something.”
“Wait,” Adam said with the second device in her hands and they all switched to the neighbor’s camera for a clearer angle. “I think I have her in this one too.”
A man entered the frame, walking toward Becca… too close to her.
Jay’s expression hardened.
In the video, Becca froze, then ran. The detectives went still as they watched the man take off after her.
Just like that, they were gone, out of frame.
“That’s him.” The neighbor pointed at the screen of her phone. “He lives a few houses down.”
“Which house?” Jay didn’t wait. He was already moving.
“Jay—” Hailey called after him, but he was gone.
Al tried to physically stop him, but it was useless.
The door burst open as Jay stepped out into the cold, the rest of the team rushing after them.
Adam didn’t hesitate—he followed right behind him without a word. He didn’t need to ask questions or be told what to do. He remembered that kind of desperation all too well—the way it took over, the way it made everything else disappear. The kind that made consequences feel irrelevant, that pushed you forward no matter what. He wasn’t about to let Jay go through that alone. There was no time to lose, he knew that. Right now, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, and he wasn’t going to let his friend down.
“House down the block,” Adam said, catching up. “Blue porch light.”
Jay didn’t answer. They simply moved fast, in sync.
Detective Halstead pounded on the entrance once, then forced it open.
The man was already at the other side of the door, probably awake from all of the noise.
“Hey!” he shouted, startled and backing up. “What the—?”
Jay grabbed him by the shirt, shoving him back and slamming him against the wall.
“Where is she?” he snapped.
“I don’t—what are you talking about?!” the man stammered. "Who are you?"
"We're the police" Adam threatened with his badge.
“You followed her!” Jay shouted.
“We saw you, where is she?!” Adam added, pulling up Becca’s picture on his phone.
“That girl?!” the man said, panicking. “I do— I do remember her..."
“You made the wrong choice.” Ruzek continued. “She’s one of us, family.”
"I was trying to help her!”
“Adam, that’s enough,” Kim warned, stepping in.
But Jay shoved him harder.
“She looked lost, I swear…she ran away!”
They didn’t listen.
“You dared to touch her, where is she?!” Jay barked, his voice breaking now.
“Jay!” Upton warned.
Jay’s fist tightened. For a second, it looked like he was going to swing.
“Halstead!” Voight’s voice cut through the room, sharp and controlled. The sergeant stepped in closer, his eyes locked on him.
Jay froze.
“Don’t do something stupid,” Voight said firmly. “You’re not thinking straight.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice, but not the intensity.
“I get it. I do. But if you lose your head right now, you’re no good to her.”
Jay didn’t answer, his chest was rising and falling too fast. His blood was boiling.
“...And if you can’t get it together,” he added, sharper now, “I will pull you off this, no hesitation, son.”
That landed.
Jay let go and the man collapsed against the wall.
“She was scared,” he said. “She ran toward the main road. No shoes... I was trying to help her.”
Olinsky grabbed his shoulder. “Come on, kid."
Jay closed his eyes. Everything was spinning. Too many directions. Not enough time. He started to feel dizzy. The noise around him blurred: voices, movement, questions, all of it fading into something distant, like he was underwater. It wasn’t anxiety or panic. It was all the pent-up anger and fear he had been carrying inside him, mixed with the weight of guilt pressing down on his shoulders.
“Chuckles,” a soft voice called tenderly.
He didn’t know how he had ended up outside on the street again, with Trudy Platt standing in front of him.
“They got a call from dispatch,” she continued. “A woman reported a lost girl. Matches Becca’s description, also no shoes, disoriented…”
Jay didn’t hesitate and came back to his senses.
“Where?”
Voight stepped in beside him, already moving, locking eyes with him for a second.
“You’re riding with me.” He demanded.
For a fragment of seconds, Hailey didn’t move right away. Her eyes stayed on Jay, following him full of concern. She could see the storm he was barely keeping contained.
My requets is date night at a Blackhawks game with Jay Halstead where he proposes and they have the wedding at molly's where kelly severide is jay best man en Sylvie brett is yn maid of honor and they have a lovely wedding with a cake that is half coverd in a Police badge and a fire figther badge
With alot of fluff thank you
Molly's Wedding Celebration
FireFighters and Police Officers don’t have it easy. With the difficult situations, long hours and difficulty making relationships last. It all just comes with the job we've signed up for. The one thing that currently came with the job is that we all got a second family.
“So how's the future soon to be Mrs. Halstead?” Brett came over to me while we were getting ready at Will's apartment near Molly's.
Tucking hair behind my ear I chuckled with a bright smile. “I still can't believe he proposed to me at a Blackhawks game of all places.”
“You know you loved it. You've watched the video like ten times in the past two weeks.”
Whipping our heads around we both saw my soon to be husband Jay Halstead leaning in the doorway of the apartment with his arms crossed over his chest. “Jay!” I shrieked overjoyed to see him about to run up to him until Brett jumped in between us.
“What are you doing here? You can't be here. It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!”
Jay shakes his head dangling a key in his fingers. “I have my brother’s spare key. Severide only took my car keys. So he doesn't know about this.”
“Well you don't get to keep them. Now get out of here.” Brett stomped forward, snatching the key from his fingers.
I gently grabbed her arm trying to stop her. “Brett, don't. He's okay.”
“But he's not supposed to see you-”
Jay raised his hands up slightly in surrender, shifting his gaze briefly over in my direction. “Technically we aren't doing an official formal wedding. So it shouldn’t be a big deal, Sylvie.”
“He’s right, Syl.” I touched her arm glancing towards the clock on the wall seeing it was almost time when we would be heading over to the bar everyone loved. I was wearing a knee length white dress, my light brown cowgirl boots and my hair was curled on the ends. “We're not doing an official ceremony. Speaking of, I think it’s time we make this happen, don't you say Jay?”
My fiancé smirked, holding his hand out for me to take. “Let's do this, Y/n.”
Jay and I headed over with Brett who held open the door letting us inside the local bar first before she ran over to her spit at the end of the bar that we had our own little ulter built at. Jay dropped his hand from mine going to stand up beside Kelly Severide who had been named his best man since we had allowed his brother Will to officiate the ceremony.
My father moved through the crowd of people offering me his arm once he had reached my side. “Your mother and I wouldn’t have minded to pay for a wedding venue but I must say this feels much closer than that probably would have felt.”
“Molly’s is home for me and Jay. It’s the first place we actually met. So it wouldn’t feel truly us if it was done anywhere else in Chicago.”
My father kissed the crown of my head before we paused at the edge of the stage. “Treat her well, Halstead or I’ll come after you.”
“I’ll treat her right, sir.” Jay held out his hand with my father placing my hand in his.
Stepping up onto the wooden stage with our hands intertwined together we kept our eyes focused on one another. Will came up to us smirking his dorky grin while shifting his gaze from me to his brother before he started performing the ceremony. “Growing up I always thought that I would be the one to get married first, but now I couldn’t be happier to see my little brother to be tying the knot. Y.n, you clearly love my brother enough to become his wife. You have the passion as we all do in this room and you both bring out the best in one another. So can I get the rings to marry these two?’
“We’ve got them.” Brett and Severide each held up one wedding ring, one for me and one for Jay handing them to the older Halstaed brother.
Will each handed us a ring shifting his focus onto me first. “Y/n, do you take this man to be your husband?”
“I do.”
He eyed his brother. “Jay, do you take this woman to be your wife?”
“I do.”
Will put a hand on each of our shoulders letting us slip the rings on the other hand. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Jay takes a step towards me cupping my face in his hands, deeply kissing me.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I deepened the already passionate kiss that he had started. Shortly afterwards we heard loud cheers and clapping from everyone in the crowd telling us that we needed to break the long kiss. Shifting my gaze over to the bar we saw Hermin and Gabby coming out of the back room carrying the wedding cake we had ordered. The cake had been designed to be half police badges and the other half was fireman badges.
“Wow. It turned out awesome.” I gasped in shock walking up to once they had sat it down on the main bar table letting everyone gather around.
Casey came through the crowd holding up my fireman jacket for me to see. “I figured you’d want your new last name on your uniform now.” The jacket was somewhat cleaned and Jay’s last name was now stitched on the back in big yellow letters in the spot where my last name had previously been.
“Thank you, Matt.” I slipped it on over my dress, sending Gabby a smirk since she was holding my bouquet of flowers. “Gabby, let’s do the toss now.”
She handed me my bouquet and dragged Brett over into the crowd with her and all the other single ladies. For a while most of us in both departments have been seeing the connection forming between Brett and Casey so now was the perfect time for them to finally tie the knot after so many years of working together. Turning around I gently tossed it up in the air and the bouquet appeared to be going into Gabby’s hands until she ducked down. “You’re the next Firehouse girl to get married, Sylivie Brett!” I squealed before the flowers got dropped into my maid of honor's hands.
“How long have you been planning for me and Casey to get married, Y.n?” She chuckled with Casey wrapping his arm around her waist.
Jay comes to stand beside me, sending the couple a smirk. “Basically since I asked this one to marry me.”
“Alright everyone, the first round of drinks are on me!” Severide announced to everyone and we all cheered overjoyed to know that everything we had planned had turned out as we wanted it to. Molly’s represented the same thing as our wedding cake did. That all first responders and medical professionals of Chicago have all become a large and loving family.
The chill of Christmas morning seeped through the windows, the faint glow of dawn casting soft shadows across the bedroom. You stirred slightly, the warmth of the blankets tempting you to burrow deeper into them.
But then you felt it—the familiar press of Jay’s lips against your forehead. It was gentle, unhurried like he had all the time in the world to wake you.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.
“Mmm,” you hummed in reply, cracking one eye open to see his boyish smile. He was already dressed, wearing his favorite green henley that you loved, paired with that flannel he always claimed was “just practical.” But it wasn’t his clothes that caught your attention. It was the way he was holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a small, carefully wrapped gift in the other.
“What’s this?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow, curiosity mixing with the comfort of the moment.
“Coffee, first,” he said with a grin, handing you the mug. “Figured you’d need it to handle what’s coming next.”
You sipped, savoring the familiar taste. “What’s coming next?”
“Open this,” he said, placing the small gift in your lap before sitting down on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady but tinged with nervous anticipation.
Carefully, you peeled back the paper, revealing a velvet box. You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his expression.
“Jay…”
“Just open it,” he said softly, his hands clasped together as he leaned slightly forward.
Inside was a delicate silver necklace, the pendant shaped like a compass.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, tracing the intricate design with your fingertips.
Jay cleared his throat, his voice low but steady. “I know it’s simple, but… it felt right. A compass—it always points you in the right direction, right? And for me…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “You’ve been that for me. My constant. My home. No matter how lost I get, you always bring me back.”
Your breath hitched, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. “Jay…”
He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know my job’s not easy on our relationship. I know I’m not always easy. But you’re everything to me, and I need you to know that. Not just today, but every day.”
You reached out, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re my home too, Jay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
He held you close, his hand sliding up your back, grounding you both in the moment. When he finally pulled away, he took the necklace from the box and fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin.
“Perfect,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he admired how it looked on you.
You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his voice a quiet promise, steady and unwavering—just like him.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!
