A/N: Sorry about the wait, lovers. It's not edited, but it's posted. (: So, put down your torches and pitchforks. Thanks.

Chapter 10: The Aftermath

Tuesday, 1:04AM, Dawson's apartment

Sleep had become an after thought. Black, cotton pajama pants and a white tank top had replaced her dark jeans and chiffon top. Dawson paced her living room floor, her hands moving as she gave herself a pep talk. She could do this. Calling out of a work wasn't an option.

But that fucking Leslie Shay.

Dawson plopped onto the couch, exhaling an exasperated sigh. Leaning her head against the back of the couch, the brunette interlaced her fingers over her belly.

"I need a drink." She breathed to herself. Standing back up, she headed to her kitchen.

It didn't take long. Just two beers, three shots of Honey Jack Daniels, and a couple of swigs from the bottle of spiced rum she'd gotten on a trip to Jamaica a couple years back. Before long, she was stumbling around her own apartment, bumping into pieces of furniture that she swore she wasn't there before she got wasted. It was unlike Dawson to drink until she couldn't remember why she was drinking. For the first time in her entire life, Gabriela Dawson had a strange problem that she couldn't solve.

Before she fell onto her bed, Dawson pulled the small trashcan out of her en-suite bathroom and sat it on the floor next to her.

Tuesday, 1:06AM, Shay's apartment

Clarice slept soundly on the right side of Shay's platform bed. Shay, on the other hand, changed position every three minutes. She wasn't asleep. Thoughts ran through her mind a mile a minute, and emotions flowed through her veins.

Frustration. Annoyance. Anger. Regret.

But the most powerful: confusion.

It was fucking Dawson.

To be honest, the Latina was the best partner that Shay had. Sure, Vanderbilt had shown Shay the ropes and had made her laugh when the chips were down, but Dawson-.

Dawson was a completely different breed of woman. She was sexy, funny, interesting, intelligent and despite the blow between them, she'd been a good friend. Shay tried to take a huge step back and see where Gabriela was coming from. Sure, Clarice had taken over her life a little. Perhaps Shay had talked too damn much about Clarice. And yeah, Shay and Clarice had begun to think as one brain: Clarice's. But, Dawson should have been the type of friend that just said: "Shay, shut up about Clarice, already" and passed Shay another beer.

Another bout of frustration flew through Shay's body as she huffed and puffed, turning onto her side again. She poked her calf and foot from under the cover and squeezed her pillow, trying to elevate it a little higher.

Maybe I shouldn't have given up on her, Shay thought.

Blowing air out of her mouth, Shay looked at the clock again.

"Shit." She sighed.

Engine 51 Firehouse, 8:23AM

Shay poured herself a bowl of cereal and hovered over the kitchen counter, poking the milk-splattered sugary corn flakes. Severide poked her side before resting his arm around her neck.

"Shay, what's goin' on? You've been moping around sense we started shift." He observed, taking the spoon from her hand.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Alright. How'd dinner go last night?" He asked, popping a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into his mouth.

Shay sighed and tapped her fingers against the counter. "Fine. It was.. it was fine. Good. Dinner was great. You know... a little conversation. A little alcohol... actually a lot. A lot of alcohol. And food. And uh, yeah-."

Severide's chewing slowed to a complete stopped. He sat the bowl of cereal back down and lowered his voice. "Did you guys have a three-way?"

"What? Kelly, no! There wasn't a three-way. God!" Shay exclaimed.

"But there was... something." It was more of a question than an observation.

Shay sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning before closing her eyes for a few moments. "I kissed Dawson." She mentioned, hurriedly. Walking off towards the locker room, Shay was keenly aware of Severide on her heels.

His bowl of cereal forgotten on the counter, Kelly chuckled. "Wait, wait. What do you mean you kissed her?"

"I-I don't know. One minute we were arguing. The next thing I knew, we were kissing."

"Well, wait. Did she kiss you back? Was it mutual?" Kelly questioned.

Entering the locker room, Shay looked down a few aisles, making sure the coast was clear. She didn't want anyone hearing about her embarassing drama. Truth be told, she didn't even want Severide knowing. He asked questions, gave advice and made the situation a lot harder for Shay to process.

Hands in her pants pockets, Shay stood in front of Severide, looking up at him. "Kelly, I don't know. It happened so fast. And then she left."

"Look," he started, putting his arm around her shoulder, "just talk to her. See where her head is at. Maybe she's not even worried about it. Unless... you know, you want her to be worried about it. Do you?"

"Yes! I mean, no... I mean, I love Clarice. I want to be with Clarice, but-."

"Then talk to her." Severide interrupted. "Talk to Dawson. Tell her you're sorry for the awkward lunge at her."

Shay nodded. "Mhm. Mhm. You're right. You're totally right."

By nine-thirty, Shay and Dawson were out on call. They'd followed behind a fire truck to a scene where a man had gotten his hand stuck in the garbage disposal. Casey and Severide worked to manually unhook the pipes and sinktop. Once he was freed, Dawson took over, immediately wrapping his hand and holding the pressure while they led him to the ambulance.

Shay hopped into the driver's seat, after they'd lifted him into their ambo, and sped towards the hospital.

Upon arrival, Dawson spouted off the patient's stats and handed him over to a doctor. As Shay signed off of the 'delivery', Dawson stood there awkwardly, picking at her nails.

"I'm gonna be in the ambo." She suddenly announced.

"Wait, Dawson." Shay said, scribbling her signature on the sheet. She ran after her partner. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"You know what? The," the blonde looked around, "kiss."

"What about it?"

"I don't know, uh, how about the fact that it happened?" Shay said, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Dawson walked around to the passenger side, climbing it. Shay opened the driver's side and sat in the seat, not putting the keys in the engine. Not even bothering to shut her door.

"Shay." Dawson warned.

"We're not going anywhere until we talk about this." Shay told her, staring out of the windshield.

A few moments past in silence.

Dawson blew air out of her nose, annoyed, before pivoting in her chair to look at Shay's profile.

"Fine. We kissed. It was wrong. It was bad. It was a mistake." She turned back towards the windshield, before looking back to the still-silent Shay. "Right?"

The blonde's head snapped to look at Dawson. "Yeah. I mean, yes, yes, it was a mistake." She nodded, closing her door.

Starting the ignition, Shay put the truck into 'drive' and started back towards the firehouse.

Up Next: A year and a half later...