Skipping Stone
-{Claire De Lune}-
"Stop the world from spinning around. Feels like the sky is falling down.
Can't breathe in, I can't breathe out. I'm afraid that I might drown.
Can't stay afloat I'm just. Skipping stone"
Woah, what's this? I'm back? Without going into too much explanation of my absence (all will be explained in a new chapter of "When The Night Falls Quiet" coming to your computer/tablet/whatever screens within the next week!), I wanted to bring you a repost story. I had originally posted this in "Hours", however I've given away that story. This one-shot was my favourite, so I wanted to publish it as a stand-alone.
As always, I hope you enjoy! x
The call he'd been dreading came ten days ago. He knew it was coming. And yet, when he saw the caller ID flash on his phone, he almost nearly hit decline.
He had done his duty. Served his time.
With that said, in the back of his mind, Jay always knew what he was going to do. He was trained to protect. And his country needed protecting.
Rapping his knuckles on Voight's office door, Jay Halstead waited for the gravelling voice of his Sergeant to tell him to come in. With a look over his shoulder to the empty Intelligence Unit – he'd purposefully waited until everyone cleared out - Jay turned the brass handle and stepped inside.
"Sarge".
Closing the file he was reading, Hank Voight looked up to his detective. "Halstead".
He wasn't one to get nervous. Or act irrational. Okay, so the last one's a little white lie; but as he stood there shuffling his feet and running his hand through his hair – I'll have to get this cut – Jay found himself at a loss for words.
"You need something?"
Voight's voice broke Jay from his trance, and looking up to his superior, he stopped fidgeting.
"Ah, yeah…" Eyeing the chair in front of the desk, Jay sat down, rest his elbows on his thighs. "Ten days ago I got a call from Major General Miller".
The room was quiet. A heavy silence hanging between the two men. And then, after clearly his throat, Voight spoke. "When do you deploy?"
"I have to report to Fort Benning on Saturday".
"And you're just telling me now?" Leaning back in his chair, Voight clasped his hands over his chest.
Dropping his head, Jay seemed to gather his thoughts before meeting Voight's intense regard. "I didn't want to say anything until we'd wrapped the Givens case".
Voight nodded, understanding.
"Have you told Erin?"
Shaking his head, Jay became fixated with a non-existent speck of lint on his jeans. "No".
"Want me to say-"
"No. I'll tell everyone after shift tomorrow".
"Jay, you up for a round at Molly's?"
Turning back to face Adam Ruzek, Jay shrugged into his leather jacket. "Ah, um. No. There's something I need to tell you all"...
As everyone turned to face him, Voight moving out into the squad room from his office, and Erin's brow quizzically raising, Jay supported his upper body weight on the back of his chair.
Taking a deep breath, Jay looked around from the room; from Antonio to Olinsky, Ruzek to Atwater, his soft, reluctant gaze finally settling on his partner. "I'm being deployed to Afghanistan. I got the call two weeks ago". Exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding, Jay took a sweep of the room. "I thought of saying no. I closed the door on the military a long time ago..., but I was trained to protect... To serve and protect".
He wasn't sure if he was trying to justify the decision for the team, for himself, or for Erin. While there may be nothing going on between them, he could see the hurt deep in her eyes. The feeling of being left out in the cold on the decision. The feeling of him not being comfortable enough to come to her with the dilemma.
"Well then"... It was Olinsky who broke the silence as he walked towards Jay and enveloped him in a very un-Olinsky type hug, "This calls for whiskey".
As Antonio took his turn in giving Jay a bro hug, Jay watched, from the corner of his eye, as Erin slowly and silently disappeared from the room.
He was getting good at rapping on door frames in the last couple of days – Voight's, the Corson's, now Erin's.
Shoving his hand back into his jacket pocket, Jay rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes and back. Repeating the motion until he heard the deadbolt shift and the door swing open.
"Hi".
"Hi".
"Can I come in?"
Watching as Erin jutted out her jaw and moved so he could walk in, Jay took in her casual state – top knot, oversized tee shirt and leggings, bare feet and sans makeup, but a wisp of balm swiped across her lips.
He followed her into the living room, watching closely as she sank into the couch cushions and raised the bottle of beer to her lips, taking in the amber ale. Resting on the arm of the sofa, Jay took a brief look at the Cubs game on TV, before turning back to Erin.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you".
She gave a loose shrug. "Why? It's not like we're together. You don't need to tell me everything".
The hurt in her evident. There was no hope in covering it.
Jay slipped from the arm to the cushions, snatching her beer from her hands and taking a drink. "You're my partner".
Erin pushed a fallen piece of hair from her face, suddenly aware of her natural self. "Partner".
The word fell deftly from her lips. And for some reason, it now felt strange on her tongue. Foreign. And she supposed that's what it now was. A foreign word. As of end of shift today, they were no longer partners. She wouldn't be seeing him on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or at all for the next ten months.
Subconsciously grinding her back teeth together, Erin looked towards Jay, and he looked at her. They milked each other in. Memorising every little detail. The frown lines. The freckles. The dimple on Erin's forehead from when she had chickenpox's as a child. The slight nick where Jay caught himself on his razor shaving that morning.
Taken in the moment, Jay reached his hand out, sweeping a lock of Erin's hair behind her ear. It felt soft, the silk like texture wrapping around the tips of his fingers. He ran his thumb of her cheek before cupping her neck, pulling her gently toward him. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze; and then slowly, almost hesitantly, as if seeking permission, his lips descended on hers. He kissed her several times like that, soft, slow, and in no apparent.
For several minutes, his lips danced against hers, until finally, when Erin had lazily draped an arm around his neck, she felt the soft thrust of his tongue trace a languid path over her bottom lip before sliding inside. When Erin met her tongue with his, stroking, twisting and exploring together, she heard a faint moan escape deep within, and she wasn't sure if it were from herself, or from Jay.
The kiss deepened, and Jay felt Erin's hand toy with the baby hairs at the base of his head, her hip grinding slowly against his.
Jay felt his body respond. He'd longed for this moment since they became partners. Easing his hand up and under Erin's shirt, Jay flittered over the waistband of her leggings, and continued past her hipbone until his gently hand rested just beneath her breast. Noting that she wasn't wearing a bra, Jay smiled into the kiss when he felt a slight weight against the back of his fingers as his hand stilled.
Erin's eyes darted wide open when she felt Jay's thumb brush over her nipple, a moan escaping her slightly parted lips. Tearing his jacket from him, Erin cried out when the inevitable came and Jay had to move his hand away from her nipple to get loose of the other arm. With the leather jacket falling to the floor, Erin ran her hand down the low of Jay's back, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
With a blazing kiss, Jay stood from the couch, lifting his shirt over his head, before pulling Erin to her feet. He crashed his lips back against hers, like the waves crashing against the shore. Seeking. Exploring.
Lifting Erin, Jay walked them towards her bedroom, their lips only breaking for short breaths of air.
Logging into Skype, Jay impatiently drummed his fingers on the computer desk, waiting for Erin's name to pop up. When it did, he leaned in close, watching her grainy image materialise on the screen.
"Hi".
"Hi".
The pause between them was awkward. It always was. Even on their eighteenth Skype call. But who was counting – pfft, they both were.
Once a week Jay would have access to the single computer on base. And for thirty whole minutes, he could do whatever he wanted with it. Many of the guys called their families, others looked up porn. But for Jay, he did one thing, he Skyped Erin.
"How's Chicago?"
Erin shrugged. "Cold. Polar freeze".
"The usual then?" Jay smiled, running a hand through his freshly cropped hair.
"I had to go undercover with Ruzek this week. Worst two days on the job in my life. I have no idea how Burgess puts up with him. He doesn't stop talking".
Giving a heart chuckle, Jay winked at her, "You miss me then?"
"I miss going undercover with you". Her voice was deadpanned.
"I'm sure you do. In more ways than one".
"Hey". She clicked her fingers at the screen. "I distinctly remember you kissing me first".
"I didn't hear you objecting".
She feigned hurt. "it's a bit hard when you're assaulting me".
"Assaulting?"
A wolf whistle stopped them in their tracks and had Jay shooting daggers towards the doorway.
"What? She's hot! You bangin' her?"
"Piss of, Nixon".
Nixon laughed. "We rolled out in twenty. Be ready in ten".
Jay nodded, and after watching the door close, he turned back to the computer.
"I guess you have to go?"
"Yeah. Next week?"
Erin smiled. "Next week".
As she walked into the District this morning, Platt had pulled her aside, passing her a letter.
"It's from Afghanistan".
Erin looked from the letter to Platt and back to the letter. She needn't have been told, she recognised the handwriting right away. "Thanks".
She hadn't had time to read it during the day, they were under the pump. Running lead after lead. Hitting dead end after dead end. It wasn't until Antonio hit the jackpot late in the day with one of his CI's that things started to run smoothly.
Exhausted, Erin sunk into her chair in the Intelligence Unit; the day was long from over, they would be working well into the night. Pulling open the top door of her desk to find a pen, Erin was reminded of the letter, sitting neatly on top of the pile. Looking around the room, watching everyone with her heads down, Erin pulled the letter out, and opening the envelope, she unfolded the yellow piece of paper.
Erin,
Do people still write letters?
I thought of writing an email, it seemed impersonal, cold.
I just wanted to remind you of how strong you are. How caring you are. How... kick ass you are. Because let's face it, you run rings around all of us.
Read this when you're feeling down, or angry. Read it when you're doubting herself. Read it when you doubt my decision to leave.
Just don't read it when you're around others. This is for you.
Erin laughed. "Too late".
There are so many things I want to say, but... if I write them down, I'll feel like this is the end. I'll think of this as a goodbye letter, and it's not going to be goodbye.
Tell Voight, Olinsky and Antonio that my time here has made me realise how much I need to thank them. For the advice, the wisdom, the chance.
And tell yourself you matter. You, Erin Lindsay, matter. To me. To Voight. To yourself. Remember that.
Only 12 weeks to go.
- Jay.
Rereading the last sentence about herself, Erin willed herself not to tear up. Biting down on the inside of her bottom lip and pursing her eyes closed, she counted to ten and focused on her breathing. Reopening them, she read the sentence again, smiled, and folded the letter, tucking it into her jacket pocket.
She knew something had happened as soon as she saw his face pop up on her screen. He wouldn't make eye contact with the camera. He was collapsed into the chair. His mind seemed to be elsewhere.
"What happened?"
She heard him expel a breath of air, and when he finally looked to the camera, to her, her heart broke. She knew he'd lost someone from his platoon.
"Who?"
"Matheson".
"The kid?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry".
Jay gave Erin a weak smile. He knew the casualties of war. He'd come close numerous times. Including this tour. But he'd kind of taken the kid under his wing. He had a lot of potential. An attitude, but loads of potential.
"He was nineteen. All he wanted to do was make his Dad proud. Thought being deployed to Afghanistan was the way to do it".
All Erin wanted to do was reach out, comfort him, but she couldn't. They were separated by a computer screen, 6,952 miles, and the Atlantic Ocean.
"I wish there as something..."
"You're doing it". A faint smile ghosted his lips. "What's the case you're working on?"
And for the next 23 minutes, Erin Lindsay talked about all things Chicago. She took his mind off Isaac Matheson, Afghanistan, the separation and the loneliness that creeps in at night, haunting your every thought and dreams.
Turning his key in the lock, Jay pushed open the door of his apartment, dropping his duffle just inside. He knew his apartment, even after ten months away, so he didn't bother switching the lights on until he reached his bedside lamp. The soft glow illuminating the room enough for Jay to get his bearings. It was then he heard a groan coming from the lounge, and turning to the sound, he smiled.
There, curled on his sofa was his partner, slowly waking.
"What are you doing here?"
"You told me not to pick you up from the airport. So I thought I'd surprise you here". Rubbing her eyes, Erin looked around. "What time is it?"
"4.00am. My flight was delayed".
Stretching her arms above her head, Erin yawned. "You're still in your uniform?"
"Protocol". As he looked down at his fatigues, Jay finally felt the heaviness to the uniform. "Mind if I?"
Erin shook her head, standing from the couch. "No".
As Jay stripped from his clothes, he caught Erin sneaking glimpses. When he was finally down to only his boxers, he felt two hands pressing onto his chest, fingers delicately tracing his heart.
"I'm glad you're home".
Meeting her gaze, Jay saw the fear and relief behind Erin's eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey". Wiping a single tear that rolled down her cheek, Jay pressed his lips to hers. "It's okay. I'm home. I'm alive".
Nodding her head, her bottom lip quivering, Erin reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him: forceful, desperate, hungry. Hands roamed. The button on Erin's jeans flew across the room. Her bra landed somewhere in the shadows.
They tumbled onto Jay's bed, Erin straddling him, his erection pressing firmly against her. Reaching up, Jay cupped her breasts, enjoying the weight of them resting in the palms of his hands. Erin's fingernails grazed down his chest, stilling when they reached the waistband of his boxers, her hips intuitively rotating against his. Jay's hands dropped to Erin's hips, gripping tightly as he flipped them until Erin was pinned beneath him, her legs wrapped around his. He kissed her deeply, nipping ferociously at her bottom lip. His hips rocked against her, pressing against her wet core. Carnal instinct. He needed this just as much as her. His hands kneaded and caressed her breasts, before his lips trailed a blaze of kisses down the peaks and valleys of her body.
Hooking his thumbs into either side of Erin's panties, Jay felt her hips slightly off the mattress, allowing him to easily slip the small piece of fabric from her body. She lay there, naked and exposed. His eyes feasted on her body. Taking in every little detail.
Kneeling beside her, Jay pushed his boxers down over his hips, very much aware that her eyes were drinking him, all of him, in.
Erin swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
Lowering his body to cover hers, Jay peppered her with kisses, his hand lightly stroking her breast.
Gone was the forcefulness. The wonton need.
Now they craved each other's body. Yearning desire.
He felt her legs wrap around his waist as she pressed herself against him. With her lips sealed against his, he trailed his calloused fingertips down her body. His hand slipped between her legs, his thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves as his fingers slid her tight, wet core. A guttural moan reverberated deep in his throat as he realised just how ready she was for him.
Removing his fingers, Jay sunk into her warmth. He knew he wouldn't last long - it had been ten months after all -, so he reached between them, rubbing Erin's sensitive clit in lazy circles with his thumb.
He continued to rhythmic trusts until he felt her body convulse beneath him. Her nails dug into his skin, and her legs clamped down, holding her body against his. As the wave after pleasure wave washed through her body, he allowed himself to experience the relief he so desperately needed, spilling his seed deep inside.
The two of them lay like that for several minutes, each attempting to catch their breath as they clung desperately to the other. Looking down into Erin's hazel eyes, Jay kissed her before moving a tendril of hair from her sweat sheened face. Rolling off of her, Jay tucked her body into his.
No words needed to be spoken. They'd already said all they needed to. They just needed to feel. To seek comfort.
Breathing in her light scent, Jay wrapped his arm around Erin's waist, holding her securely to his body. His eyes began to droop, but not before a small smile spread across his lips. Finally, feeling more at home than he ever had, Jay let his clouded and tortured mind slowly drift off into peaceful and soundless sleep for the first time in as long as he could remember.