Best
Rating: K
Spoilers: well, Loss if you're going to get technical.
Summary: …The name Don was handwritten across the front…
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit. Ramirez is mine, though, and his girlfriend, I guess, is his.
Author's note: I know this isn't the way people want her to come back, or even the way she's coming back, but it struck me, what if?
The worst is over
You still have the best of me
The Starting Line, "The Best of Me"
Detective Ramirez was working through lunch. If he had his way, he'd be on his barstool at the deli a few blocks away… but he was the newest transfer to SVU and pretty much everyone else was out at lunch, collecting cases, or with the flu. He signed another report and added it to the stack.
A woman standing just in the doorway caught his attention. She was young, in her 30s, pretty, with blond hair and a rather casual outfit that fit her tall frame well. He knew his girlfriend would get angry with him for thinking such, but he was, after all, a cop, and supposed to notice details. She paused just past the threshold, surveying the room. Apparently, she found it suitably empty for her liking and, spotting him looking at her, made her way straight to his desk.
"Detective Ramirez," he said when she was close enough. She didn't have either of the auras he was accustomed to associating with Special Victims – either slightly scared, timid, and unfortunately ashamed, or angry – but if there's one thing he'd learned from his time on the force it was that everyone reacted in their own way. "How can I help you?"
"Excuse me for bothering you," she said, looking him in the eye. She glanced around the bullpen as she pulled something from her green purse. "Can you see that Captain Cragen gets this?"
"Of course." He took the once-folded sheet of paper with the smallest reservation. It was not computer paper, but more like something his girlfriend spent way too much money on in stationary shops; handmade or something, unique at least. The name Don was handwritten across the front. He looked up to see she was glancing in the exact direction of his office. "You know," he continued, "the Captain is in if you'd like to give it to him yourself. He might be on the phone but I'm sure it won't be long if you wouldn't mind waiting." He began to gesture to a chair, but realized her gaze was still elsewhere.
"Oh no," she said quickly, her attention snapping back to the seated detective. "Just please, make sure he gets it…" she trailed off, eyes again sweeping the squad room, focusing on a pair of desks in the middle.
"All right." He paused, unsure if the exchange was over. "Can I help you with anything else?" He craned around to see her face, and was shocked by the sadness written across her features. "Are you all right, ma'am?"
"Yes, thank you," she replied, taking the tissue from his outstretched hand. She smiled weakly and dabbed the corners of her (blue) eyes. "Just haven't been myself lately."
She turned and left, dropping her tissue in a trash can on her way out.