Title: Little Moments

Author: ZombieJazz

Fandom: Chicago PD

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.

Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.

SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.

Erin looked over at Jay while she hovered her beer just in front of her mouth waiting for his response to what she'd just lobbed at him.

It was her first beer in months. Months and months. And fucking (or lack thereof) months.

And she needed it. She likely was going to need way more than one to get through this conversation and anything that might transpire after it. Though, maybe not.

Apparently taking a break from the alcohol, combined with everything having two babies did to you body, made even a bottle of Jay's whatever-craft-brew yield a bit of a buzz without even getting through a single one. Or maybe he'd found something with a bit more kick to it to get him through the first month of having twins at home too.

But Erin actually suspected the kick was more in the taste. This was way too hopsy for her likes, which she thought likely meant pregnancy and postpartum hormones had gone and done something to her taste buds as well as her alcohol tolerance. Another joy of motherhood apparently. Fucked with everything else you had going on with your body – why not your taste too?

Jay was just lounging his head on the back of the couch. He was staring at the ceiling like she'd just put some kind of impossible brain teaser to him. Maybe in the eyes of a man she had. Or at least in the eyes of Jay – and his baggage. And hers. She knew wading through this wasn't exactly going to be easy territory for either of them.

Hence the shitty beer – that he'd likely paid too much for. He had his bottle hanging over the armrest, dangling in his hand – not taking another sip. Though, she thought he might want to with the way he was nearly wringing at her calves while he tried to piece together whatever response he was going to give her.

She'd gotten a little sick of waiting for him to come up with something and her feet maybe had nudged some up his thighs and nearly into his crotch. Like that might give him some kind of motivation to answer. Which really could go either way with Jay on any given night – but maybe more especially now.

He sighed at her movement and moved his hand a bit to stop her from getting too close. And met her eyes.

"I feel like we're negotiating how we're going to lose our virginity or something," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at that. "You negotiated how you were going to lose your virginity?"

He sighed again at her and raised his eyebrow right back. "It was discussed."

And the smile got wider. "How very gentlemanly of you."

He rolled his eyes. "How very verbally consensual of me," he contended and shook his head.

"Did you have her sign a contract agreeing to said terms and conditions of virginity loss and agreeing to all its implications?"

"The necessity of consent hadn't quite reached that point back then," he said.

"Mmm," Erin acknowledged and took another sip out of her beer. "So are you saying you'd be more comfortable if we drew up a contract now?"

"Erin …," he sighed at her again.

"Because we could still go and sign the marriage license if that would make this easier for you."

And his head lulled back again with a bigger exhale as he stared back up at the ceiling. And she let him for a second. She let herself for a second – because this wasn't something she could browbeat him about. But it was also going to be something that … eventually they were going to need to resolve. They all needed that stability. That foundation. And it wasn't just about them anymore. It wasn't about them getting over decisions made and actions taken. It wasn't just them working on themselves or getting over themselves that took precedent. There were the kids now. And as complicated as that made all this – it also sort of simplified it. They both knew what growing up in broken, fucked up homes did to kids. That wasn't going to be the twins. And it wasn't going to be how she lived as a 'couple' or a 'family' either. This was either going to work – or it wasn't. They'd had long enough to take this – playing house – for a test drive. Too fucking long.

She took another swig of her beer.

"So after this negotiation was it everything she wanted and more?" she asked.

He brought his eyes back to hers. "I don't think that night lived up to her expectations."

And Erin nearly snorted into her bottle at that but managed to smile at him. That was unfortunate. Though, she thought maybe Jay was right – maybe this was the same as his alleged first-time sex conversation. Only she was going into it hoping to temper each of their expectations and to go into it with their eyes wide open. But he'd given her too good of opening to say any of that.

"Does that mean she didn't like your routine?"

He gave her a look. Unimpressed. "I do not have a routine."

And her eyebrow got higher in contention. "You have a routine."

"I do not have a routine," he muttered.

And her foot pressed into the side of this thigh a bit. He had a routine. He'd gotten better about switching it up. A bit. But the foundations of his routine were there. In a way that now she'd been with him for a while – told her a whole lot about him and his level of sexual experience coming into the relationship. And his own hang-ups and insecurities. The walls he had and the fronts he put up.

Not to mention she usually knew exactly where they – or he – was in his routine. Which had its advantages some nights. Some being the operative word there.

"Don't worry," she assured. "Your routine works for me."

And it did. They'd worked on the parts that didn't. They were still working on other parts to get them both on the same page – in comfort levels and boundaries.

"And I'll trust that's because it's evolved since you were in high school," she teased.

He just shook his head at her and took a swig of his beer.

"Who does that," Erin muttered, taking a sip of her own drink again. "'Negotiate losing their virginity.'"

"Basically everybody," Jay mumbled over the neck of his bottle. "In some way, shape or form."

Erin hummed something at that. He likely had a point. Though, she knew her loss of virginity was a rather different negotiation that anything he was referring to. But she didn't want to get into that.

Maybe she could take some solace in the fact that she was apparently rather belatedly having some sort of conversation – or negotiation – that everyone had previously. Though, she found herself wondering how many other women actually had this talk with their partners. Or they were just able to get over themselves and dive back into this without any concerns or qualms. Or they just put out to shut-up their guy. That would just be some other type of negotiation, though. One without much of a conversation.

"This was … what's her face …," she said.

"Ali," he said with some warning and a little nod at her.

"Right," Erin acknowledged with another sip. "She was cute."

He rolled his eyes. But she was kind of looking for just that reaction.

"You want to tell me the negotiated details," she said. "Maybe it can help us set up ground rules now – since it feels like the same thing."

"You want to tell me the details of your first time," he put right back to her – a bit more seriously.

She shook her head over the lip of her bottle. "I think that's something neither of us ever wants to think about."

Jay looked at her for a long moment. She could tell he was measuring it - and the meaning behind it. His face changed and he gripped more tightly at her foot again, holding it in place and against his legs.

"Prom?" she pressed at him, arching her eyebrow and trying to lighten the mood again. "She seemed like a senior prom kind of girl."

It got the raised eyebrow back at her. "In the glimpse you got out of her."

She gave him a little shrug and a smile.

"I don't think anyone who took her dad with her to the prom should be passing judgment."

And Erin shrugged again. "If you got to pick between Hank and Old Eagle Eyes as dance chaperone – always pick Hank."

"Bigger on what's in the punch than on making room for the Holy Spirit at those things?" Jay asked. "Because I've more than gotten the sense shutting down both is a priority for him."

She smiled. "This," she said, gesturing at it herself, knowing it was right there. "I think it works on most dads. Of daughters."

Jay shook his head at that. But she also knew he'd seen it in action. That he'd complained about it when they worked together. That a smile for Hank and she got what she wanted. Which, wasn't entirely true. But she wouldn't argue there were situations that it was – and she'd definitely used that to her advantage more than once since she was fourteen years old.

And she knew too that Mattie was using it from the get. She already saw how their baby girl's involuntarily little smiles and grins had Jay wrapped around her little finger. They were going to be in trouble when she already had that figured out.

"Right," Jay said, "until there's some guy he decides looked at you funny and he needs to be telling them to keep it in their pants."

"Mmm …," Erin acknowledged and took another swig of her beer. "I don't think anyone's pants were open after Hank and Camille decided to have a baby the summer of my junior year. That pretty much worked as decent birth control for everyone involved. And more than dissuaded any boys who thought they might be interested in throwing pebbles at the window too."

"Your window's around back," Jay said.

"Yea," she said, "imagine when they were either hitting the boys' room or waking up Hank."

He smiled a little at that and gripped more at her feet. He massaged them briefly and swigged at his beer too.

"Her planning. It wasn't for prom," he said.

She was a little surprised he'd said that. She raised an eyebrow.

Jay only shrugged at her. "Her parents would've been up then," he offered. "Waiting for me to bring her home. I'm not good at being that sneaking around dad's back kind of guy."

"Says the guy who works Intelligence," she offered.

He gave another little shrug.

"Pretty sure you did sneak around dad's back if you got laid in high school, Jay," she offered. "Think it'd be a compulsory requirement with most dad's of teen-aged daughters."

He made a little sound of acknowledgement at that. And his head lulled again. Until it rotated and he looked at her.

"I was completely unengaged with all her planning," he said.

"Because you just wanted to get laid," Erin offered.

He shook his head. "No, because if I'm in my thirties and still have issues with you touching me that way, imagine how fucked up I was about it at seventeen and all my sexual experience—"

"Jay, what happened - that wasn't sexual experience," she said and shifted a bit closer to him. "It was abuse. Assault."

He exhaled and just kept looking at her. "Yea, so I thought, let her talk about it as much as she wanted. Figure out her parents' schedules and when we might have the place to ourselves. Put it off. And, really, if it's something you need to talk about that much – is it something either of you are really ready for?"

Erin moved again, shifting closer to him on the couch and leaning her arm over the back of it. Getting into his space a bit and staring into his eyes.

"Are we still talking about then? Or now?" she put to him.

He sighed a little. "I just feel like if maybe we need to talk about it this much, you just aren't ready yet," he said.

"If you're trying to sound like a line out of a sex-ed brochure, I think you're missing construing it," she said. "Because I'm pretty sure it's supposed to say something about communication being fundamentally important. Or something."

His eyes stayed on her – hard and soft – as he tried to decide what to say next. As he processed.

"If I've done … something …," he said with a half-gesture at his crotch "… that's made you feel like …"

"Stop," she sighed at him and adjusted herself to sit next to him more fully.

"I just don't want you to feel like just because the doctor gave us the all clear that—"

"Jay, it was three weeks ago the doctor gave us the all clear," she said. "And you definitely haven't tried to initiate anything since then."

He stared at her a little more slack-jawed. "I didn't want to pressure you."

She ran her hands through her hair a bit and stared right back at him. "Well …," she sighed at herself and made herself settle a bit more. "It also makes me feel like you aren't that interested in …" and she just gestured down her front.

Post-pregnancy body, C-section scars, and babies who thought they pretty much owned your body (and in a whole lot of ways, pretty much did, even when you weren't breastfeeding, she'd learned) didn't do anything to make you feel any kind of sexy – or in control. She'd thought she'd struggle most with that during the pregnancy – while having two human beings growing inside her – but there'd been a whole different and new component to it since the twins had been born. And in some ways it scared her more. While she was pregnant she'd thought it was a time-limited loss of control – this, now, felt like it didn't it didn't have a due date. And it was just going to go on forever unless she figured out a way to regain some of that control and find a way to adjust and operate in the new 'normal'.

And he just stared right at where the scar was under her clothing. "I just thought you weren't that interested … yet …," he added.

"I'm not," she muttered. She hadn't meant to – but it'd come out. Because – again – right now between still healing and still learning how to be a mom and sharing her body and time and space with new human beings in a different way all coupled with exhaustion meant that she really hadn't been that interested in sex.

"Then why are we talking about this?" Jay asked.

She exhaled and looked at him. "Because I know how—"

"Erin," he huffed out at her. "I'm fine. I get—"

"Can you listen," she pressed back at him. And he sunk back into the cushions and completely shut up. And she weighed if she'd made him shut down. So she reached and ran her one finger once against his temple. "I know how our relationship works and how it doesn't work when we aren't …" she sighed again and looked at him. "Being intimate. Not just the sex, Jay. But … because we've had to … work on things in that area …. It's … we communicate better. We work better when we just have … I don't know."

"Intimacy …" he provided, like he understood what she was trying to get at but didn't know how.

"So I don't want us to become that couple that … now we're just mom and dad. And we're 'tired'. And it's all about them. Not when we'd worked … so fucking hard," she mumbled, "this past year to …"

"Be more intimate …," he allowed.

She sighed again and allowed him a gesture and sunk back into the couch herself and stared at him again. She watched his eyes go up and down her.

"You haven't let me see you since …" he provided. "Not really."

She sighed and looked away a bit. He'd seen her – it. It just wasn't exactly like she was flaunting what she had now. And when she did have it all hanging it – it'd been more for the kids than for either of them or for the sake of their sex lives.

"I just …" and she shook her head and shrugged, turning back to him.

His hand snaked out though and rested at the hem of her shirt. He looked at her – long, testing her reaction but also seeking permission – and then he drew it up slowly, until her hand went up and held it into place and his hand moved to draw down the waist of the fucking maternity jeans she was still wearing. The ones that absolutely didn't fit right and did absolutely nothing for her figure – but they did fit loosely and comfortably enough against the scarring that the rubbing didn't causing the tingling and numbness that was driving her a little crazy. Or make her feel like the area was still going to burst open again.

She wouldn't exactly say it looked healed. It maybe looked like it was healing. But it pretty much looked like a mess. Even, though the doctors said that it was doing better on the side than it was on the out – she wasn't entirely sure she believed them.

Apparently an emergency crash C-Section pretty much left you scarred for life. She wasn't going to be one of those women who said the incision was barely noticeable that the doctors had done such a fine and delicate job on slicing her open. Because that wasn't what had happened. She'd been hacked open in an emergency organized-frenzy. Leaving a fine line a top of her pelvis hadn't been the priority.

Instead she had a long vertical area of puckered skin and flesh trying to come together in this ugly, angry way. That seemed to serve less of a badge of honor about the arrival of their babies – and more of a reminder that her body had betrayed her, and them, on their way out. And that she'd been cut open and stabbed – and fixed up – while Alvin had taken his own gut wound and hadn't pulled through to the other side. When her and EJ and Mattie had.

She let Jay look at it for a long second. Made herself let him look at it. She'd had to do that a lot. And she also hadn't. She knew it had a different – added – layer of memory and worry for him. Because he'd been in the room – until they'd had to fight to have him dragged out – while they were trying to get the bleeding under control. Scary moments – more than moments, minutes – that she couldn't remember where apparently there'd been the very real possibility she might bleed out. Where Eli was born dead and was pulled from her and surrounded by doctors and equipment from the get who struggled to revive him. Where Jay had been in a room where he'd thought it might just be him and Mattie coming out of it. And he didn't know what to do. And there wasn't anything he could do in those moments.

And they only talked about any of that so much yet. Because … what do you say.

His experience had been different than hers. And that scar – their birth – held different and added meaning for him.

So she didn't want him to look at it too long – not usually, not now, not ever, she didn't think. So her hand nudged his away and readjusted her clothing.

"You know I still think your body's amazing, right?" Jay put to her as she did.

"Jay …," she sighed at him. It wasn't what she wanted – or needed – to hear.

"I do," he pressed. "Essentially it's more amazing than before. I mean, look at what it did," he said with a gesture at the ceiling – to the room she'd put the babies down in the hopes of getting some privacy for this conversation and anything more. But the move that Jay had protested and though he'd relented in leaving them upstairs eventually the baby monitor was still what they were listening to that night rather than having any music on to try to set any kind of mood. Erin wasn't sure listening to every little sound of their sleeping infants was the kind of mood she was trying to set for this at all.

"You realize that my body essentially didn't work," she said. "That they came early. That he was born …" and she stopped herself, giving her head a shake and taking another sip of her beer. "That I couldn't breastfeed," she muttered around the bottle. At least that meant she was allowed this without dealing with that kind of guilt too.

Jay looked at her. Those eyes again. Those eyes got to her even more now, especially when she had them looking at her from multiple places – and sockets – all day. She was starting to understand more just what Hank was saying – without saying – when he said Ethan had Camille's eyes. And she sometimes wondered how he dealt with – how he could live with – that day-in and day-out now. She wasn't sure if it was a comfort or not. But it definitely made you feel all kinds of things.

"Erin," he said evenly, "we were scheduled for a C-section anyway. And you weren't sure you wanted to breastfeed. Even if you had decided you wanted to and the milk came in, with twins, we would've likely been supplementing."

She shrugged and took another swig out of her bottle. "Doesn't change the fact – this amazing body, didn't do the amazing things it was apparently supposed to do."

He settled his arm along the back of the couch and stared at her. But she just focused on drinking the beer – the finally mouthfuls. She was going to need another. She reached and put the empty on the coffee table.

As she rose back, though, Jay was in her space – leaning forward to meet her. Not just in her space – his lips found hers and he planted a careful, tender kiss against her mouth, his hand cupping her cheek as he did until he backed away.

She raised any eyebrow at him. "What was that for?"

"Because I wanted to kiss you," he said. "Because you looked like you needed it."

She allowed him a thin smile at that – and thought about kissing him back, again. But he'd backed away some more and stared at her.

"It wasn't Ali," he said.

Erin knitted her brow. "What?"

"It wasn't Ali," he nodded at her and reached to put his beer on the end table as he looked at her some more. "I stalled, put it off. Her off. And then I enlisted. And left. I was nineteen—"

"Nineteen? Really?" Erin put to him. She couldn't stop herself. It surprised her – and absolutely didn't. And she wasn't entirely sure how that made her feel about her past – and choices – by the time she was nineteen. Or what that said when they combined both their sexual baggage and past together. But it likely shed some more light on … the aspects that were less than ideal.

He just looked at her. "Almost," he said flatly. "And even then it wasn't for the right reasons so because I was ready or was with someone I cared about. It was just this other way to … try to be someone I wasn't. To make people think I was. To make myself try to believe. It was just this other fucking way to runaway and deny what happened. Or pretend that I was okay with it and had moved beyond it. So I couldn't tell you much real about it – or her. Beyond that alcohol was involved and it was likely well below her expectations too. And there's a string of women who could probably say about the same thing."

"You didn't have to tell me that," Erin said.

He shrugged at her. "Yea, I did – because we're real. This is real. So I keep … trying to be real with you, Erin. So, if we need to talk about it – and communicate – than we need to do that. Be real."

She stared at him and let herself settled her shoulder against the back of the couch, her feet and legs curling under her. His hand settling there.

"It's just hard feeling like my body isn't my own right now," she said. Finally.

They'd talked about that during the pregnancy. They'd found ways to deal with it in terms of their relationship and sex life. And she'd worked at constantly reminding herself that it was just a time-limited situation. That she'd have her control back. But it wasn't really working that way.

"Okay …," Jay allowed. "Is there something I can do to help with that? Because I'm not getting the sense you're all that interested in sex being the answer."

She sighed a bit and put her arm against the back of the couch – resting her forehead against the palm.

"I want to have sex," she allowed. "I'm just not sure how it works now."

Jay shrugged at her. "Think we had big barriers in the way a few months ago," he said, raising his eyebrow at her. "And we figured it out."

She allowed a little sigh at that. And just looked at him – because she didn't know what to say.

"There's other ways to be intimate, Erin," he told her.

"I know …," she muttered. But even though foreplay wasn't entirely lacking in their relationship – it was complicated right now. It felt complicated – when he didn't like her getting him off manually. And when she refused to go down on him. Rolled in with their individual aversions to various positions – and the reasons why. Though, they'd been forced to work through some of that during the pregnancy.

"If getting back in the saddle means you need to take the reigns," he said and gave her knee a little shake and tried for a teasing smile.

She allowed it a thin smile – for the effort. Because she knew he really hated when he didn't feel in control in the bedroom. He was trying.

"That'd be a sight," she muttered at him.

And his hand gripped at her knee a bit more. "Stop," he warned her firmly. And she met his eyes. "I don't care about that. Just like I don't care if you want to leave some stuff on or have the lights off. Or whatever makes you feel comfortable, Erin."

She sighed harder and stared at him. "I'm feeling pretty sure the entire thing is going to be uncomfortable."

"Then we stop," he said – looking her directly in the eyes.

And they stared at each other.

"I didn't exactly expect the first-time back at it was going to be hard-fucking and fireworks," Jay offered.

She exhaled. "I'm not interested in fireworks right now."

He shrugged. "Fine."

She looked at him more directly. "I'm serious, Jay. I'm … not interested in orgasming yet."

And he stared at her – his brow creasing. "Okay …?"

She rammed her hand against her temple again and looked at that concerned and confused look creasing all over his face.

And Erin exhaled slower. "There's times when I'm having to pick up them in their buckets that I'm still feeling like my insides want to fall out of me, Jay." And she nodded more directly at him. "Through my vagina."

And his jaw dropped a bit and he shook his head. "Well, that just makes me want to pack us into the car and go to Med right now."

She pushed his shoulder back into the couch. "I'm being serious. Real."

"So am I," he said.

And another exhale. "I just mean, I can't imagine what any kind of muscle contractions are going to feel like down there. Because I know what it feels like in daily life – and it's still hurts. It's uncomfortable. It cramps. So I'm pretty sure the entire experience isn't going to feel like sex to me. And that makes me think it's likely not going to feel like it to you."

"Erin, you didn't—"

She stopped him – looking at him hard in the eyes. She didn't need to be told again she hadn't given a vaginal birth. She didn't care that they'd been scheduled for a C-section – that's that what she thought she'd wanted anyways and that it's what the doctors had said was best for the size of the twins and the way they were positioned and growing. It didn't matter – not what they hadn't gotten to the date the twins were supposed to arrive, not when everything had gone down so far outside their plans.

"Things expanded and shifted," she pressed at him. "I went into labor. I had contractions. My cervix opened. I got cut open – through muscles and organs. Down there. I spent nearly eight weeks in adult diapers of bleeding out clots the size of plums, Jay. I've never had any period like that. So I'm pretty sure I didn't need to give a vaginal birth to know that things aren't going to be different."

He sat there and looked at her, until he finally said, "It is different. It will be different. And not because your body just grew two lives, Erin. It's going to be different because this has made us different as people and as a couple. And that's okay. Believe it or not, I had not catalogued away the way your vagina felt as a top reason I was – am – in a relationship with you."

"That's disappointing," she said flatly.

It got a smile out of him. And he reached to cup her head again. The times he frustrated her – he made up for in sweetness. Maybe too well. Considering she knew how broken he thought he was. And how broken she thought she was too. How broken their relationship was - as much as they kept working on it. But sometimes it did feel like they picked up each other's broken pieces and worked at trying them in all the places missing parts in the puzzle. She just hoped they weren't trying to force them into place - that they were actually making the big picture come together.

"I think you're likely doing your form and function mantra a disservice," she nodded at him.

He shook his head. "I actually think your vagina did what it was supposed to do in terms of getting us two kids here. And, as for it feeling good, I might've catalogued those 'one time thing' fucks," he teased but his eyes softened again. "But this year, the pregnancy, we did pretty at figuring out the whole making love thing, Erin. I sort of think that it feels pretty fucking amazing too. Maybe better. And maybe we're pretty good at that too."

She shrugged. "Maybe I agree with you."

His hand found where hers was against her temple and pulled it away from her face and squeezed it a bit.

"See. Intimacy. So we'll go slow – and on your timeline," he said. "It doesn't have to be all or nothing. And you say stop – I stop. We'll figure it out."

And she let herself smile a bit at that. And let herself lean into him to kiss him. To feel him kiss back – slow and tender, until he broke it just slightly.

"We don't have to figure it out tonight," he told her lowly.

But she gave a smaller shrug and leaned back into him herself. "Maybe we can't half-ass it at least a bit."

"Erin Lindsay half-assing anything?" he cocked his eyebrow at her.

But she only smiled a reclaimed his lips. "One-time thing," she rasped against them.