Here we are, chapter two, B! I'm inexplicably excited for tonights episode, so I wanted to get this posted before it aired. A big thank you for you response from the 'A' chapter, it's really motivated me to dedicate myself to this storyline. Thank you!

'B for Breakfast'


She didn't sleep. She let her eyes close and she relaxed her breathing, but after he fell asleep with his body tangled in hers she couldn't bring herself to succumb to tire.

Jay's screams were repeating in her head; relentless, unwavering, constant.

She guessed PTSD. She knew he'd served in the past, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She never knew how to properly approach the situation, and he never knew how to let her in.

Even if he was suffering trauma from his time in war, Erin didn't have a clue how to tackle something like that.

So she lay there, his skin soft and warm against hers and prayed that nightmares would evade him. And despite the fact the rest of his sleep appeared sound, Erin couldn't deny the heaviness stuck in her heart even as the sun rose.


His eyes gradually opened to a dense stream of sunlight invading the room. And his stomach immediately dropped.

The space beside him was empty, a lost imprint in the sheet where Erin had been. And he knew exactly why it was now just a dented section of material.

The nightmare.

He ran a hand through the root of his hair as he recalled the night before. While the memory of Lindsay's body writing under his lit a fire inside of him, he shuddered thinking of what he'd dreamt. He could still taste the sand on his tongue, the heat in his throat. It was the worse he'd had in a while. And of course it had to be on the same night that he finally made it with Erin.

All of a sudden he heard her footprints, and a part of him considered himself to be daydreaming. But she had his sweater on, curved round her collarbone and cut off at the top of her thigh, showing just enough leg to drive him wild.

He'd had the privilege of seeing Erin in so many different lights. 9am Lindsay was great, albeit somewhat gloomy. 1pm Lindsay was fun, having loosened up during the morning. 7pm Lindsay was one of the better ones, the promise of a beer at her place elevating his spirits. 11pm Lindsay was his favourite though, painfully gorgeous under her hallway lights or a Chicago streetlamp.

But no, this was a whole new level. 7.23am Lindsay was, by miles, something that took his breath away.

Like a kid at christmas, a grin spread across his lips as he saw her. She was holding two coffee mugs in her hands, padding along his floor as she slid back into his bed. It felt warmer the second she reached it.

"Morning." She rasped, and he could see she was trying not to smile.

"Morning," He echoed, accepting the coffee she handed him. He held it between his hands, but refused to take his eyes off of Erin. Her hair was soft and tangled round her shoulders, and he could still feel it between the tips of his fingers.

She took a sip of her beverage, but now he could see how she was holding something back. There was a tension there, unmistakable.

Finally, she put him out his misery.

"About last night." She stated, openly and brazen. She shifted uncomfortably, though, and took a deep breath when she finally looked him in the eye. "Look, I don't know if it was just a simple nightmare that you had, or a one time thing..."

He crumbled under her stare.

"Erin." His voice was calm, a steadiness put on with everything he had. "I'm fine." He let the corner of his lips turn up in a smile.

"Jay..." She mumbled his name, attempting to coax something, anything out of him. But he was still holding the smile, determined to not let something as petty as a war flashback put a dampener on the morning.

"Erin..." He mumbled it back, leaning over to her and honing in close on her lips.

His forehead hovered near hers and he could still see the worry imprinted on her face. And although that lifted something inside of him, it wasn't enough for him to put that kind of pressure on her by relinquishing his entire past in one sitting.

And then he kissed her, teasing a smile from her lips when she eventually tilted her head to deepen the angle. And then with mug-warmed fingertips, she touched his chest. He could feel the self-control it took to press his torso backwards and pull her lips from his.

"I've gotta get to work." She whined softly, disgruntled. "Still trying to get on Lang's good side."

"Don't let him drive and keep him dangling for about a year." Jay chimed in, struggling to tear his eyes from her lips. "That ought to do it."

She let out a breathy laugh, and it was a sound he could hear every morning for the rest of his life. She bit her lip and inched closer.

"I did not keep you dangling."

"'Maybe one day?'" He jogged her memory. Her smile broadened.

"That was just..." She came closer still, knocking her nose against his. "Keeping you on your toes." She whispered.

"You did a good job of it." He whispered back, letting her kiss him softly. It lasted only a few seconds and was over all too soon, but her taste lingered.

"I've gotta go." She repeated, even more discontented than before. Yet she managed to pull herself from the bed, sliding her mug to the bedside table as she reached the doorframe. She stopped when she got there, one hand holding the wood as she turned to face Jay.

He was looking at her like she was the sun, and she couldn't believe it when a blush rose to her cheeks.

"Quick question." She noted. "Does this mean that 'One Day' is no longer a maybe?"

He grinned. "Oh, definitely."


She couldn't stop thinking about him. He'd infected her, drifted into her bloodstream and seeped into her being. She missed the taste of his smile and the way his hands held her sides.

Lang was being his arrogant self for most of the day, giving her the cold shoulder and then complaining when things were done wrong. But he'd took on board her request about the CI's, so that was at least a start.

Despite everything, her mind kept going back to Jay's nightmare. She was less inclined to call it that the more she thought about it.

Sure, he'd brushed it off, but he seemed to do that with everything personal. And the hollow screams were haunting her, so she could only imagine how it plagued his mind.

And all the while, she thought about how to approach the issue. Wondering whether or not it was an issue she could approach. Or should.

Did he want her infiltrating his past like that, even if it helped him?

Erin had suffered nightmares before. But she scared her self back to reality and the worse she had was an elevated pulse rate. But no, Halstead was facing an angst she didn't even begin to know how to categorise. Especially since it appeared to be PTSD from several events; she'd heard the tragedy of his life story in the midst of his screams, not just war flashbacks. He was broken in more places than one.

So as Erin sat her desk in her new workplace, all she wanted was to be there for him in a way he always managed to be for her.


Another painful aspect of the new job was the hours she was subject to. She thought nights at Intelligence were long, but Lang seemed to keep her there longer than imaginable.

It was almost 10pm when she got home, dragging her tired body up the stairwell with all her might. But then she hit her floor and a new energy found her body.

"Finally." Jay said with a grin breaking out.

He was sat outside of her door, but lifted to his feet the second she saw him. Then she noted the brown bag gripped in his hand.

"I was beginning to think you'd moved apartments or something." He said while Erin neared and searched her pockets for the key. She fished it out quickly and slid it into the lock, turning her head to look Halstead up and down.

"I might have to," She said, flicking the door open. "Seems like there's a crazy person stalking my home."

He nodded solemnly, feigning being deep in thought.

"Right. Well I could just find another place to stalk. Pancakes are everyone's favourite, right?"

He lifted his arm up 90 degrees and Erin immediately felt her stomach murmur at the appetising smell. She found his bright eyes and he was biting down softly on his lower lip.

"I didn't get a chance to buy you breakfast." He explained.

Her mouth twitched as she took the bag from his hands. She took a step into her apartment and flicked her head, motioning inside.

"Get in," She told him with a chuckle.


She ate the pancakes, which tasted like syrupy heaven, and sipped from her beer. It was over all too soon, but he stayed on her couch even after he'd devoured the food.

A part of her was watching him out of the corner of her eye. And her soul lifted as she watched his eyes dart to the action on the television. He was her best friend. And if she wanted to, she could lean over and kiss the lips that had offered consolation on so many occasions that she needed it. And if she wanted to, she could clasp the hand that held hers on the night of her reunion. He was just the same as he always was, only now she could do all the things she'd forced herself not to in so many instances.

Or was he the same?

He moved his body forward slightly, leaning toward the game that was ensuing. His eyes were bright and expressive, his hands gripping his knees.

And all Erin could hear was his screams from the night before.

"Hey," She said softly, drawing his gaze from the game to her. "You wanna talk?"

He watched her for a second, his expression softening. He blinked a few times, a look of sincerity.

"Sure," He said slowly, turning the TV off and bringing his full attention to Erin. "Something on your mind?"

She shook her head, scooting closer to him. Their knees were touching.

"Tell me something." She said, challenging.

She watched his eyes, and a smile of mischief lace his lips. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Her lips tugged at the corners, despite her best effort. He came in close, his smell enveloping her vicinity and sending her momentarily dizzy.

He dipped his head in, his breath just above her neck. Breathing was becoming difficult for her.

"Jay," She moaned, trying to sound disapproving and displeased. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

He brushed his lips against the skin of her neck, smiling when he felt her give in and slide her fingers round the nape of his neck. He then felt her tug his direction upwards, connecting their lips.

She wanted to kiss him forever.

How had she gone so long not kissing him?

How was she ever going to stop?


That night, he didn't sleep. And she knew that because she stayed awake watching him. She watched as he feigned a deep sleep with fluttering, dreaming eyelids. But she wasn't an idiot. She knew he was simulating rest.

And in the moment where his jaw tightened and his lids flittered, in the moment where he was afraid to let himself sleep, Erin resolved to fix things. Whether he wanted to let her in or not.


Thanks for reading!

Coming up: 'C for Counselling'