AN:I preface this story with the explanation that I have NOT seen all the current seasons of Chicago Fire. I am most of the way through Season One, with my childhood best friend who encouraged me to write this fanfiction because she likes how I screw around with canon. And I do that here. Enjoy!

Like all bad decisions, it began with tequila and Mexican music and Dawson yelling "my enchiladas have actual spice cabron!" to the chef at a hole in a wall while Severide, laughing, dragged her out over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Like a fire rescue, and Dawson paused in her anger to smell him. Dropped her head against his back, her fingers gripping his jeans for purchase and mumbled a false threat of nausea that made him slow his steps on the sidewalk.

He pulled her down and gently held her face between his palms. It was a Chicago winter, cold and bitter with that constant threat of snow and Dawson felt her face begin to burn with his touch. Closed her eyes, sighed and, bowed her head…

"Hey hey Dawson! Look at me" Kelly crooned through his own stupor, his own laughter, immune like her to red nose weather and everything intelligent in both their bodies…

It should be important to know how they got here. Dawson and Severide were, at best, friendly coworkers linked through sheer stubbornness to Shay. Their love and loyalty always centered around the blonde pixie and her loneliness. How they circled around her, worried and cautious and discussing each crisis before going their separate ways to handle it. Clarice, the baby fever, each and every bad break that culminated in a fierce protective edge: Dawson threatening bodily harm to all comers while Severide dragged Shay close in a bear hug, got her drunk and let her vent by turns.

Dawson looked up at Severide just then and it occurred to her that he was taking care of her the way he did Shay and she was so happy for that shift from impersonal distance she could have cried. She was too drunk to be articulate but the thought came unbidden that her armor was like his. She shot off her mouth, played brash and cavalier with her job and her motives like he did with his body all the while scared and hurting and needing something she could never put into words.

Dawson pulled herself in close, palms meeting at his spine, a grin splitting her wide and

"I see you Kelly" soft and slurred on her breath. Because she did. She saw he was high and lost in his head when no one else was looking and she called him to the carpet without pause. Typical Dawson. And Severide hid behind blue eyes and indignant posturing just enough to fool someone lazier then turned up requesting her help. Not so typical Severide. So she nodded okay.

There they were standing in the middle of a cold Chicago night because she was sad and he took her out and got her tipsy and never asked her why. Severide helped her without questions.

Telling him why would have been wiser but she was not wise. She counted on his armor, on his insatiable allure and charm to wind her around him, the way he was in that moment slowly trailing his left hand down to cup the small of her back, his right hand busy with brushing her hair from her face. Staring. Until his lips brushed hers once, twice, checking in, the slow sly quirk of his bottom lip not nearly as condescending as she would have thought up close. She gently bit down and his mouth opened over hers their breath gone quiet and shared.

"Dawson…"

She giggled. It took him by surprise. So much so he pulled back to give her his trademark grin, confusion bright in his beer goggle eyes. She had never struck him as bubbly and light.

"You gonna call me Dawson when we're naked?"

"Are we getting naked?" he parried while bundling her scarf around her neck to draw her in. He could taste the Cuervo on her. Didn't think it would be a pleasant morning after for either of them and he was trying to be serious, to be good. Even if he couldn't stop playing coy. Dawson never took his bullshit anyway and he desperately wanted to know why they were the way they were right then.

She kissed his nose while he was distracted. Burrowed into his arms until he found himself with his mouth on her hair and their bodies so intertwined that moving was impossible. He felt her mouth on his sternum, breathing in and out, and it tripped a wire in him slow and steady. So familiar he could chase it to its source and find himself hip deep in her for hours.

"I will never be enough" She whispered it so quietly, Severide swallowed his response and tucked his head on top of hers, a noncommittal hum his only sound as he rocked her back and forth. "I'm not good enough. I don't say the right thing and I'm tired of waiting". He didn't ask who it was. Though he could guess. It didn't matter because he understood her feelings of worthlessness. He knew waiting and he knew her. She hated to be vulnerable just like Shay and he'd never leave his best friend hanging.

Her head nudged up to look at him and Severide found himself falling into earnest dark eyes dulled though they were with alcohol. He kissed her nose and she smiled. The serious moment broke. He slid his hand down the backside of her jeans with a small possessive pat and her indignant squeal made him laugh. To see Dawson like this, being an absolute girl and not the hard nosed paramedic with a seething right hook: it was a revelation he'd never known to prize but he did so greedily. Severide's hand migrated into the back pocket of her jeans and he was just reckless enough to press her closer, to let her feel what he was working with as a final warning. He watched her face flush. Felt her nails grip his back through jacket and sweater.

"I just don't think I can call you Gabi though" he sounded pained or breathless or both. Dawson was beautiful and he'd never had a type really. He wasn't even worrying about Shay at the moment which told him exactly how fucked in the head he was. Severide never thought of any of his trysts as mistakes but this...

"You'll figure something out" she kissed him full on the mouth before stumbling to the curb right arm raised for a cab that wasn't there. Severide watched her go before realizing she held his hand tight with her left and followed. He squeezed it. She squeezed back still peering down the road for a cab in either direction. He brought their joined hands to his lips and cupped his free hand over her fingers to blow warm air and kisses over her skin, his seduction begun in earnest. Her big smile his new favourite expression.