She wakes with an unresting pulsating in her head, as though her brain is telling her something in morse code. It's a bad sign that the annoying beeping of her alarm doesn't wake her - it's clear she's overslept. A veil of tangled hair encloses on her vision, so as she scrunches her face, one eye slowly opening, she only sees bits and pieces through the brunette strands. It's enough to tell her that she's not in her apartment, though.
'Great.' She thinks, although her inner voice doesn't help her hangover one bit. She faintly remembers the bar last night, so she shame of a one night stand gathers in her mind. As Erin gulps she winces in pain - it's clear she didn't have a quiet night in. After shoving her rough curls from her vision, she holds her self up on one elbow and wills herself to fully open both eyes. Clean white walls don't aid the swelling behind her eyes, and a strip of sunlight invading the room makes her want to smother her whole body beneath the blankets. It's a fairly neat room, until she notices her clothes strewn in every conceivable angle in her vision. And to her dismay, the lump lying next to her didn't have the brains to hang a wall clock in his own bedroom. It could be 4 PM, and she'd be oblivious.
"Oh my god." The rasp stings her aching throat, but there's no way she could suppress it, not after looking to her right. He's on his stomach, the duvet strung loosely across his back, but his head is turned to face her. His eyes flicker in his slumber, his mouth slightly agape and his bed-head giving hers a run for her money. Jay Halstead is the lump lying next to her.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." As she brings her hands to cover her face she feels a weight on her arms, and pulls the duvet. off her to reveal her sporting her partner's plaid shirt. "Oh my god."
"Oh my god." He musters as he slowly wakes, sharing her same 'what the hell did we do?' look. She turns to face him and flashes race through her head. Jay props himself up on his elbows and brings the balls of his palms to his forehead, obviously trying to find some clarity.
"Are you wearing anything?" Her voice doesn't sound like her own and doesn't contain her signature edge. She watches anxiously as he pats himself beneath the covers, and breathes a sigh of relief when he mumbles 'boxers'.
"Erin?" The sound of her name escape his lips brings back thousands of memories - all of which she wants to forget. "What the hell did we do last night?" She gulps and realises how ridiculous they must both look - like two four year olds who just realised they coloured on their mom's favourite tablecloth.
"Obviously you kidnapped me against my will..." She starts, tearing herself from his bed - his dirty, contaminated bed.
"What?" It snaps from his throat and they both wince at the noise.
"This is your apartment." She gestures around them, before quickly moving her hands to the hem of the shirt, pulling it as far down as humanly possible to attempt to conceal herself.
"You're wearing my shirt." She suddenly feels incredibly self conscious and wraps her arms instinctively across her chest.
"Shut up and help me looks for my clothes. We're late for work."
He hauls himself from the bed and heads for the bathroom, a sound of retching filling the apartment.
"Lightweight." Erin mumbles as she unravels her bra from the corner lamp and carefully hooks it round her, under the plaid shirt. It's oddly comforting, not that she'd admit that. She finds her jeans hiding from her, half-under Jay's bed, while the presence of her shirt remains a mystery. The door to his room is wide open, and as she presses a hand tentatively to to the cool wood, images once again flooding through her head. She vaguely pictures herself pressed against the doorframe, her fingers grabbing roughly at Jay's shirt, pulling him as close as possible. The can practically taste the tequila on her lips, and it bubbles the bile in her stomach. She races to the kitchen sink and her heaving sounds synchronise with her partner's. After her stomach contracts, desperately trying to rid her body of anything but acid, she twists the tap and shoves her head below the faucet, slurping the cool water.
"I'm calling in sick." Jay groans from the other side of the wall, clutching his stomach.
"No," Erin mumbles, attempting to gather herself. "No one is going to find out about this." Jay would find her more convincing if she wasn't swaying from side to side with her eyes half-closed. "We need to act as normal as possible, okay?" Jay collapses on the couch, the back of his hand strewn across his forehead as he groans. "Have you seen my shirt anywhere?" She begins scouring the living room, trying to shut her brain off from the visuals of the night before trying to force their way into her memory. Jay shifts on the couch, before pulling a crumpled shirt from beneath him and tossing it blindly over his shoulder to Erin.
"Get dressed." She tells him bluntly. "We're stopping by my place before work."
He's used to being commanded by Erin Lindsay. What he's not used to - Being commanded when he's got such a throb in his head he can barely think. So he just follows her instructions, hoping that'll cause the least problems and allow his hangover to subside at the best rate.
"Really? This is the time you let me drive?" He moans as they reach his car and Erin heads for the passenger seat. It's his car, but she insists she drives stick better. But this morning, both feel as though they could fall asleep behind the wheel.
"You've gotta practice sometime." He rolls his eyes as he slides into the driver's seat and slowly starts the ignition, feeling the car purr beneath him. He changed into a new pair of jeans and shirt, meanwhile his partner is stuck with the same clothes from the night before. So they stop by her apartment before they head to the station, and Jay relishes the fifteen minutes he spends in silence, his head resting softly against the wheel.
"Okay, let's go." He jumps with a startle when the door slams, the pounding in his head returning. The first thing he notices is the smell - she's wearing the same perfume as the night before and he remembers smelling it so intensely it was like a dream. He remembers burying his face in her neck and taking in the sweet smell as though his life depended on it. Shaking the thought from his head, he starts the car and pulls off of the curb with ease. He shifts his vision to Erin for a slight second and chuckles, catching her attention.
"What?"
"Nothing..." He assures her. "Its just... Sunglasses, really?" Her face contorts into a frown as she slides the rim of her shaded sunglasses and scowls.
"I've got bags like you wouldn't believe. You know, you might want to invest in some, too."
Erin's got their story straight before he even pulls into his parking space. They've gone through it so many times Jay feels as though he may have gotten a permanent headache. The problem was, they're both pretty clueless about what happened the night before. Worst case scenario - Someone from the unit saw them leave together. So Erin creates the details that Jay gave her a ride home, and that was it.
Jay's glad his partner has the imagination and initiative to create their back-story- There's no way he could be so focused with a hangover as raging as this one. A chemistry and tension has always been present between Jay and Erin, and up until recently, they thought their boss was oblivious to it. With Voight's threats looming over his head, Jay had become wary of how to act with his partner when her 'dad' was around, and he was pretty sure she had too. This is why he thinks it's key that Voight doesn't find out a thing.
"Halstead, a word?" Jay's eyes widen at his desk when he hears the harsh barking off his boss. He immediately turns to Erin on the opposite side of the room, who shares his shell-shocked look, but cocks her head to Voight's door, urging Jay to go. With all the strength he can muster and an apology already forming in his aching head, he makes his way to the office at the back.
"Yeah, Sarge?" He plays it cool, gently closing the door behind him and standing with his arms folding across his chest.
"This is about Erin." Jay's heart races at roughly 5000 beats per minute and he feels a sweat gathering in his palms. It's bad enough that Voight thinks Jay's not good enough for Erin, so he can only imagine the beating he'll be subject to once the over-protective fatherly figure realises Jay was so drunk that he's got a memory block on the whole thing.
"What about her?"
"I know I was a little harsh the other day, when I told you to stay away from her." Jay hears softer words, but the voice still croaks in a way that makes him shiver. "'Just wanted to make sure there's no hard feelings."
"Uhm, no. Absolutely not." Jay squints subconsciously, feeling as though it's too good to be true.
"Truth is, you and Lindsay are a good team, alright? Don't let what I said compromise your work judgement." Jay nods while his mind stirs on Voight's words, trying to make sense of it all. "Alright, get outta here. I got a den I want you and Lindsay to check out in twenty."
As Jay closes the door to the office as he leaves, he finally heaves a sigh of relief. He finds Erin watching intently and motions her head forward, needing to know the details. Jay shakes his head softly with a smile and watches Erin exhale with the same relief he felt. It isn't exactly erasing the night before, but it's step one in forgetting.
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