A/N: This will likely only be like a two or three shot. Unless Typey gets her way and it becomes an epic slow build piece. Regardless, thanks to Typey for being my Madam Fix It. (Insert standard I don't own the characters disclaimer here).
The first time it happens it catches you both off guard. She's been texting you since you were put on probation, inviting you to come to Molly's every other night. And you finally caved.
You walk in the door, eyes immediately searching her out amongst the crowd of people. You find her, and the first thing you notice is how good she looks. Not that you find her attractive or anything. It's just that with her hair down and the stress of the day already washed away by a beer or two she looks better somehow.
Her eyes meet yours and your relief at finding a friendly face suddenly turns to worry. She looks so tense, and your feet are moving before you have a chance to wonder why. You're halfway to her when you notice the redhead at her side and suddenly the panic makes sense.
You've seen the same look a thousand times on your straight friends' faces every time a guy makes unwanted advances; you should've known it would be the same for lesbians.
Her eyes dart over your shoulder to a table nearby and you spot Dawson, all wrapped up in Casey and completely oblivious to her best friend's "save me" eyes. It rubs you the wrong way somehow, though you can't pinpoint exactly why. Maybe it's because you have no idea how long she's been trying to get someone to give her an out or maybe it's because bailing Shay out isn't supposed to be your job anyway. Either way you're a little angry now, and you're making the easiest decision you've had in a while.
You stride across the floor, stopping well inside her personal space. And when your arm slides protectively around her waist, she relaxes into you. You don't remember making the conscious decision to embrace her but she's close against you now and pulling away would only complicate things.
"Sorry I'm late." You offer up a faux apology, turning your attention to the redhead who has yet to take the hint. She's pretty enough, you think, but you don't get much further because Shay's arm has slipped around your back, and you realize how long it's been since anyone's touched you even remotely like this.
It's simple, just an arm across the small of your back, a hand on your hip, but it's safe and comforting all the same. You feel protected and supported. And, okay, maybe that's literally all she's doing, letting you know she's got your back. But you've missed it and you think you wouldn't mind if she held you there just a little bit longer.
"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."
The voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and sudden, and you try not to blink too much as you turn your attention outward once again.
An insincere "oops" is all Shay offers in reply, and when you chance a look at her face you're met with a smug grin and piercing blue eyes. The gentle squeeze of her hand on your hip doesn't go unnoticed either and you're not surprised to realize you've smiled back.
The two of you share a look and you decide this is your moment. Extracting yourself from her arms you reach for her hand instead, intertwining your fingers as you tug her away from the wall and back toward her friends, only letting go as you slide onto stools across from Dawson and Casey.
"Where've you been," Dawson asks, acknowledging you with nothing but a nod.
"Oh, you know," Shay responds, head tilting side to side.
When she doesn't elaborate further, Gabby lets it go, eying you suspiciously as she starts in about prepping for another run through the fire academy.
You watch the conversation more than you listen to it at first, the thoughts in your own head louder than any of the voices of the people around you. You wonder if you made the right call, if cozying up to Leslie was just what any friend would have done, but you don't let yourself dwell for too long. All that matters is that it worked. It worked and you made the right play and now everything's good. And maybe you enjoyed it a little bit. Not so much the being referred to as Leslie's girlfriend part but just the being close to someone part. The being held part.
She's looking at you when you finally glance up, a soft smile on her face. The thanks she whispers is sincere and you answer her with a smile of your own. And when you catch the redhead watching you from the bar you don't think twice about resting your arm across the back of Shay's chair or reaching across her to steal a drink of her beer.