A/N: Hello everyone, and oops! I haven't updated in quite a while. Been lurking and reading, mostly. This is a headcanon fic for tumblr user oswaldz since they drew some really cute Dredd/Anderson art. ;v; Please enjoy!
The locker room was empty by the time Dredd and Anderson hauled themselves in from a graveyard shift, each covered in dirt and grime and god knew what else. She disappeared immediately down to the showers with a pile of clean clothes in hand. He glanced after her but rather than follow behind settled for stripping off his gear and wiping some of the congealed gunk off of his Lawgiver. After a moment he rummaged through the contents of his locker seeking something clean to tug on after he'd had a moment to wash up.
It wasn't uncommon for Dredd to lose a shirt in the locker room every now and then. With so many Judges coming and going occasionally one got snatched up while he was rushing through the shower or he left it out on accident when he was otherwise distracted. He was fairly sure most of those missing ones were cadets going on a dare, but considering he could get an identical replacement one through the supplies quartermaster it wasn't that big of a deal to him.
Once the sound of running water stopped he grabbed a clean tank, wrapped a towel around his waist and then padded in that direction, sauntering past the shower Anderson was occupying for the one he favored at the end of the row.
That was the moment she stepped out and collided with him (he was fairly sure she did it on purpose), letting out a soft grunt when she bounced off of him. Dredd took a half moment to look her over out of habit and then paused.
"That's-" He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if struggling to find the correct words. The shirt she was wearing was visibly a few sizes too large for her.
It was probably his.
"Problem, Dredd?" Anderson was doing her best to wipe the shit-eating grin from her face and failing miserably. He scratched the back of his neck anxiously but didn't move, still trying to form the words to call her out for it.
"That's a little bit large for you, don't you think?"
"Mmm," she tapped the side of her face before her fingers drifted to drum against his chest, ignoring the way his eyes narrowed with the action. "Don't think so. Fits pretty well." Dredd craned his neck around, lifting the sleeve of the shirt around to check the back. A faded '79 was just visible.
It was definitely his.
"You know this is my shirt," he grumbled, frowning down at her. Anderson grinned and walked her fingers up his chest, pausing long enough to trade the curve of his jaw in a gesture that both unnerved and placated him.
"Why do you ask?" she murmured, still smiling sweetly at him, "Do you think I pull it off better than you?" Dredd growled and moved to corner her, but he only had one free hand if he wanted to hang on to the towel at his waist and she ducked easily out of his reach. She laughed, stepping across the damp tiles back towards the rows and rows of lockers.
"Where did you even get it?"
"You don't remember?" she asked from the end of the showers, "You left it at my place." A fragment of a memory popped into his head (her doing, no doubt), his face flushing in embarrassment. Ah.
So he had.
