This was originally supposed to be a scene-by-scene recap in Erin's POV from the episode, "We Don't Work Together Anymore." I ended up with this drabble of when she shows up at Jay's apartment at the very end. I don't know where this came from, but I think it has to do with the fact that it's Chicago PD night and my Linstead heart and brain are just not ready for the feels that are coming. Hopefully this isn't total crap and you don't hate it.
Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation with Chicago PD, its characters, writers, cast or crew.
When the sun sets over the Chicago skyline, Erin Lindsay is at her ex-partners apartment when she should be delivering a press conference. She just doesn't care about the fame and flash of the feds. She finished the case, helped send off her CI, and then booked it out of the office.
She only knocks her knuckles a few raps against his door before he pulls it open. He's dressed so casually while she's in heels and a pantsuit. She doesn't miss the once over he gives her body or the anxious smile that fills her own cheeks when she asks him if she is interrupting.
He motions to his television and she sees the conference she is supposed to be at, but bailed on. He invites her in and she accepts. She walks through the doorway with hesitant steps and clasps her hands together in front of her. She glances straight ahead at the television once more, notices the half empty bottle of beer on the side table, and then she is blurting her thoughts aloud before she can stop them.
"So, this is how you're spending your evening? You must really miss me."
She catches the shy grin that decorates his face and he throws her a compliment of her looks that normally would make her cheeks flare, but she just can't stand the thought of the task force right then. She thought it would be better. That there would be more of a difference being made, but now that she has finished her first day on the new job she is questioning whether or not this really was the right move for her.
She's talking about another of Voight's rules then, only this one not so stupid – you never get your picture in the paper. Because at the end of the day if the glory is all you're after in their line of work, then their line of work isn't for you.
She hears Jay's voice asking to talk about her day. She really doesn't want to talk. She had been content to discuss nothing of it and just watch a movie and drink a few beers with him on his couch. He has always been there for her like that. She could depend on him in a way she hadn't been able to with most men of her past and she's never been more grateful for their close friendship.
It's different now though. Things have changed. The air has shifted. There is tension. His earlier spoken words of "we no longer work together" replay over and over in her mind and now she's not sure what she wants. She can pretend to have forgotten their conversation in the bull pen just hours ago or she can take a chance on the man who has been her best friend for almost two years.
He's standing in front of her with nervous eyes that don't leave hers and she watches the hollow of his throat as he swallows nothing. She knows somehow, in her subconscious or her gut or her heart, what he is going to do before he even does and it causes her to almost stop breathing. The oxygen gets caught in her throat and she stands with lips parted as he moves closer to her.
She looks at him with a soft smolder and feels the corners of her lips turn up just slight enough to resemble the tiniest of smiles. She watches him take another step. He is closer now, and then his hands are reaching out to her, but her eyes don't leave his. Fingertips over fabric, his hands are at her waist clutching her against him in a tender hold. She sees him swallow again and then he is leaning forward and a second passes between them before she feels his lips over hers.
It's slow motion. A mix of heaven and sin, of scorching fire and crystal ice and she thinks to herself, how the hell could I have gone so long without this?
She's kissing him back in an instant. Her hands have moved to his shoulders.
How did my hands get there?
She is not too sure, but she kisses him again and again and then he's gripping her tighter and pushing her backwards. She hits something with a painless thud and realizes it's the back wall that separates Jay's bedroom from his living room. Erin knows where this is going and she needs it to go faster, but she doesn't want to rush it. It's such a catch twenty-two for her.
She can feel his hands everywhere. They're in her hair, at her throat, down her ribcage, over the small dip of her lower back, and then on her waist again. She's lost her jacket by now, and then feels a shiver - either from his hands roving over her skin or the fact that the top half of her body is only covered by white lace.
Wait. When the hell did he take my shirt off?
His kisses become more aggressive. It's as if he thinks she is going to stop him soon. So he drinks it all up and takes her in as much as he can before she grabs her clothes and walks out of his door.
He must be crazy. The only place I plan on going is over to his bed.
Erin has managed to pull the t-shirt from Jay's body at some point during their heated make-out and her hands are roaming over the crevices and indents of the front of his torso. She can feel his muscles contract beneath her fingers and she smiles into their current kiss at the effect she has over him.
Her smile disappears a moment later through an O-shaped mouth when she feels Jay's lips latch onto a patch of skin below her ear. He moves further south, cascading along her jawline and down her neck to her collarbone and it's a whirlwind. His warm lips and hot breath on her flushed skin makes her shudder as she clasps her hands around the back of his head, gripping his neck. His arms drop, hands reaching for the backs of her thighs and then she is in his arms. She wears an excited smile on her face, ready for the spark that is about to ignite between them, and he turns to carry her to his bed.
Erin's head becomes overwhelmed with the smell and feel of Jay as he rests his lean body over her smaller frame. His face hovers above, an inch from her lips, and his pelvis stays situated in place between her parted legs. Within seconds he is kissing her again and it is careful movement and soft touches.
What she had originally thought would be animalistic, fast-moving is slow, deliberate and she can't stop the whimper of necessity that slips from her throat. The friction between them is glorious and in an instant they've gone too far to go back, but she doesn't care. This has been a build-up of curiosity, tension, hunger for two years too long and she is sure she has never wanted anything more than Jay moving the way he is right now above her. And she has certainly never been one to beg for anything in her life, but here she is writhing beneath her ex-partner pleading for a release she knows only he can give her. Fast-beating hearts. Clammy skin. Lustrous eyes. Gasping breaths. Then ecstasy.
Sometime later when their hearts have settled and their breathing slows, Jay pulls her body against his so that they face one another. Her hair fans out over pillows and his arm holds her tight and close, draped over her waist. Her hand clutches his bicep and her warm breaths hit his chest. He tightens the hold he has of her. They sleep so little and when they wake sometime in the middle of the night, still, no words are exchanged.
They keep their eyes on one another. Jay rakes a hand through her hair and Erin runs a finger over his stubble covered jawline. They commit the night spent with one another to memory and when she becomes sleepy again he tucks his blanket over her, and kisses her forehead.
Erin lets out a heavy sigh of comfort at the way his arms feel around her. How his lips had left a trail of heat over her skin. The way his beating heart calms her in an instant. It is a feeling Erin is sure she has never felt before and it's a feeling she doesn't want to ever be without again. Whether it is just the sex that is clouding her brain, or lust, or love. Whatever the hell it may be, she wants to keep it forever.