A few days had gone by since they last saw each other. Enough time had passed since they last spoke that Jay was no longer in Vegas and Erin had managed to immerse herself in work to settle three of her cases outside of court. Erin had locked herself away at work, using the time to occupy herself in order to keep her mind off of her boyfriend who is currently thousands of miles up in the air, traveling from Las Vegas to Atlanta. She had used the time to put her phone on silent, ignoring the calls from her father's campaign staff who had been desperately trying to get in contact with her to do damage control over her boyfriend's comment she retweeted days ago.

Only a few days had gone by yet it felt likes months.

They haven't spoken to each other –texting not included- since he came to see her days ago. It's going on two weeks, soon to be three; it's almost August. Long distance relationships are the worst. And the paparazzi didn't make it better. The constant questions, the picking and prodding into her personal life to see how she's handling her boyfriend touring the country, her thoughts on bras and panties being thrown towards him while he's performing on stage and her concerns on the possibility that the old Jay will come out the longer they're apart. The paparazzi were the worst.

Erin stretched out her legs, hoping the movement would take the strain out of her bended knees. She had been sitting on the floor for far too long; the time flying past her. Jay should have landed already but he never text her. He's probably too busy. Erin pushes the stack of files off her lap and onto the carpeted floor of her office before pulling her laptop onto her lap. She's focused; she's supposed to be calling Jay tonight and she wants to ensure that nothing gets in the way of that. Nothing and no one will prevent her from calling her boyfriend and finally hearing his voice. Erin opens an old file of a case she thought she had closed. For some reason, unbeknownst to her until she reads the report, the company her client is suing is now countersuing her client.

She read the first line. She didn't get far before there was a knock on the glass door of her office and someone walked in. That someone was limited to a few. Her secretary was pretty intimidating and did not allow anyone to just knock nevertheless walk in her office without a call to Erin's desk phone or an appointment. Only a few were so special. Only a few meaning her guards and her boss. It had to be one or the other.

Surprisingly it was neither. But, Erin understood why her secretary gave no warning call. The two uninvited and unwelcomed guests were her mother and her father's campaign manager, Trudy Platt. Her dad's campaign manager never visited unless it was work-related; she didn't believe in social calls. And the fact that her mother was with her meant that they had planned to tag team her. Over what? That remains to be the question that needed an answer.

"I will never understand," Camille started, running her perfectly manicured nail along the wood of Erin's desk, "how you have a perfectly good and usable desk that you never use," Camille flopped down into her desk chair and kicked up her feet, crossing her legs at the ankle, "and a pretty comfy chair too. Yet, you always sit on the floor both here and at your home."

Erin shrugs, "It helps me think," she sets her laptop down on the floor, "I think better sitting down here," at her mother's raised brow, she chuckles, "don't worry your pretty little head, when I conduct business with clients, I'm sitting behind the desk looking every bit the professional you raised me to be. Happy? Now," she intertwined her fingers, "I know this isn't a social visit, it's past the lunch hour so this isn't a lunch visit and you didn't come alone so I know this has nothing to do with a charity event. What did I do?"

Reading the new case file and report wasn't going to be happening in the near future so she might as well focus on the arrival of the uninvited guests. She wanted them to get straight to the point so she can get straight back to work. She had a boyfriend to call in a few hours.

Camille lowers her feet to the ground, "You know this is an important year for your father."

Ah. Now it made sense. This was a business-type, political-type visit. Erin screwed up and now Trudy is here to do damage control and her mother is here to ease communication between the two of them. How noble of her…

"I know that," Erin whispered, watching as her mother walked around the desk and approached her. With Erin sitting on the floor and Camille standing in front of her, standing tall in high heels, the difference in height would be intimidating for anyone who wasn't Erin. Camille was an intimidating woman; at least she appeared that way on the outside. Her posture was unapproachable, her mannerisms were uptight and stuck up, but the woman had a heart of gold.

"Sweetheart can you please stand up? I can't talk to you like this."

Erin smirked, "How about you sit down here with me?"

"Your father is up for reelection next year," Camille got back on subject, completely ignoring the suggestion that her daughter threw out, "we all have to be on our best behavior."

"What I do should not affect him."

"That's where you're wrong," Trudy joined into the conversation. She, by all accounts and opinions, was intimidating. She lived up to her outward appearance. Her hands were tucked into the front pockets of her slacks as she stood tall, poised and erect, head held high, refusing to angle her head and strain her neck to look down at Erin, "Everything you all do affects him. They will use anything you do against him. He's high in the polls overall, but he's low among churchgoers. He dropped in the polls among the highly religious the second you retweeted that post from your boyfriend."

Erin smiled at that. Not because her dad dropped in the polls, but at the reminder of her boyfriend's comment. He can be a cool, relaxed and chill guy unless you mess with her. Then a darker side, a protective and uncivil side comes out; it's a side that she's finding herself to enjoy.

"I'm not running for president, Trudy."

"This is a familial campaign, Erin. You know this. You know when someone runs for president, it's not just the actual person that's thrust into the limelight; it's the entire family. Please tell me you didn't forget or lose any brain cells dating that-"

"Watch it," Erin warns the second she cuts Trudy off.

"Erin, sweetheart," it's Camille who tries to play peacemaker; it's her only reason for tagging along in the first place, "Trudy has been doing damage control for the past couple of days since the post had been retweeted. And we absolutely understand how you feel about the situation, about not having the ability to do as you please, but just remember that the other side won't see it the way you do, the voters won't either," Erin rolls her eyes at that, "they connect everything we do to your father. And…and…"

"And what, mom?"

"You know I sort of support your relationship with Jay, but I'm starting to worry that he's bringing the old Erin out and not the one you worked so hard to be."

At that her mother grabbed Trudy's arm and dragged the protesting campaign manager out of her office. She left Erin to her thoughts. She stared off, out of the glass wall, watching her mother and Trudy walk in the direction of the elevators with a group of secret servicemen following closely behind. She left Erin to her thoughts on purpose. Camille knew her enough to know those parting words would stick with her, would make her think and reconsider a lot in her life.

And now she's stuck questioning, wondering if the old Erin is the real Erin and wondering if this new Erin is a phony, one built and constructed to live the life of a politician's daughter.

Was she living a lie? Who was she? Questions and worries that have honestly never plagued her were suddenly starting to make an appearance. Thanks, mom. If this was Camille's wish, she had succeeded. Erin would now be too busy trying to sort through her feelings, her thoughts and her actions to see which ones she liked and which she didn't, which belonged to old Erin and which ones belonged to the new, present her. Was Jay turning her into the old Erin? The Erin that she struggled for years to leave behind, the Erin that she wanted to forget, the Erin that turned to alcohol and drugs, and the Erin that lost Nadia.

She stared down at her hands; stretching them out and clenching them back in. She notices the nail polish on her fingernails cracking; she needs a manicure soon. She needs Nadia. She needs Severide. She needs Jay. She needs someone who would listen. She needs someone who would understand. She's not the old Erin, at least not completely her; she's left her far behind, but if her mother brought her up then that meant that she's acting like the old her. She hadn't changed. She hadn't matured. She's just as reckless, just as selfish, just as predisposed to alcohol and drugs. She can't possibly be the old Erin, maybe some part of the old Erin remained, but she can't be the old Erin completely…at least she hoped she wasn't. Maybe she was? She didn't know. Is she too young to go through an identity crisis?

She hears a light knock on the door, before it opened and closed behind another visitor. Was her mother and Trudy back to only pour salt into an opened wound?

"Hey," she looked up at the sound of Atwater's voice as he crouched low in front of her, "just so you know it's a combination of the two."

Her head tilted to the side, "Pardon?"

"You're a combination of the two Erins you're currently torn between," he brushed his hand through her head, tugging her forward to pull her into a hug, "Don't tell anyone I said this, especially your mom because she can get me fired, but screw them and everything they said about you and your boyfriend. I've spent more time watching the two of you together than anyone and he does bring a new side of you out, a side that's more carefree and exciting. You've been so busy doing what everyone else wants you to do, you've been trying to make everyone else happy and now it's your turn to do something for yourself. Sometimes it's okay to be selfish. Got it?" When she nodded, he released her from the hug, "I love you, alright."

He had been standing outside of the office the entire time, using the fact that he's her guard as an excuse to stand closer to the glass door than normal. He had heard everything. He knows that Camille wouldn't intentionally hurt her feelings; he also knew that Camille didn't know about every aspect of Erin's past. And while the first lady thought that she was making a good argument in the case of Erin watching what she posted on social media, she had only reminded her daughter of the old her, of the things and person she had lost, of the wounds that didn't heal completely and the secrets she had purposely kept from her parents. They didn't know of the resentment she sometimes felt towards them, they didn't know how close she had come to burying herself in a hole and never coming out.

"I love you too."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Atwater heard it. And he smiled.

"Do you want me to call Severide?"

Erin wiped her dry cheeks and nodded, "Yeah."

Atwater reached over and swiped her cell from on top of the couch and went to her speed dial, selecting the number of her closest friend before placing him on speaker. He answered after the second ring; he always answered. She could always depend on him to answer no matter what.

"Hey Er, everything alright?"

It was Atwater who spoke; it was Atwater who filled him in. It was Atwater who drew the connection between what her mother had said and the thoughts that suddenly rose in her head because of it. Atwater was almost as close of a friend to her as Severide. Once he finished, he slid the phone towards her and departed her office, shutting the door firmly behind him to give her a sense of privacy. Even though he left, she said nothing.

"Want me to fly over there?"

She softly chuckled, "You can't fly out here every time I'm upset."

"Want to bet?"

He was just as protective as Jay, but in another sense of the word. As a friend, maybe a best friend if she thought long and hard about it; he flirted, hooked up and played around a lot when it came to members of the opposite sex, but never with her. She was like a sister to him. She was a best friend to him. He played around more times than she can probably count, but not when it came to Erin Lindsay Voight. She was off limits. And anyone who dared hurt or harm her would see just how much he cared for her.

"She didn't intend to upset me," Erin started to explain; "She didn't even know she upset me. I just couldn't help it though. Once she said that, I started thinking and my thoughts led me everywhere. I had no control over them. And…and…"

"It made you reconsider what you thought you knew?"

Severide gets her.

"Yes," her answer comes out in a ghost of a whisper.

"Maybe I can fly down there some time in August," his thought holds hesitation; he knows her well enough to know that if she thought he was only wanting to fly down to check up on her, she would reject him. That was only part of it though.

"I think that'll be a good idea. I miss you."

He grins, releasing a built up sigh of relief, "I miss you too."

Erin pulled her laptop back onto her lap after finally relaxing, after finally getting over her mother's parting words. Now, she could probably get some work done, even with Severide still on the phone, working on the other end in another city, state and time zone. She could hear his fingers typing against a keyboard as the office chatter is muffled in the background by his own question, "How's the long distance relationship treating you?"

She sniffs, "It absolutely sucks. I haven't spoken to him since he left. Can you believe that? We've both been so busy that our schedules do not sync up." She's no longer focused on her job. How can she be when Kelly brings up the one topic that immediately pulls in her undivided attention? Her laptop is sat back down on the floor.

"Where is he now?"

"Atlanta."

"How long have you gone without talking to him?"

"It'll be two weeks in three days."

"Damn…"

"Right," she rolls her eyes, "tell me about it."

A silence falls over the phone line. This conversation makes her miss her boyfriend even more. She wanted to speak to him, to hear his voice, to see him smile yet she was stuck miles away from him, forced to have that semblance of comfort and conversation through texting. And the worse part about texting is the fact that he has the tendency of responding hours after she sends off a text. She wants him here. Or she wants to be there. She wants them to be together.

"Erin…"

She forgets she's on the phone. She forgets she's at work. She somehow found herself lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling with her phone on speaker resting on the center of her stomach.

"Erin…" he repeats.

And she lifts her phone, feeling the vibration of an incoming call move against her stomach. It's Annie. She doesn't answer. She lets it ring until it goes to voicemail.

"Erin!"

She snaps out of whatever haze she was in, "Yes? Sorry, I kind of zoned out there."

"I hate to do this, but I have a city budget meeting."

"I understand," she pushes herself up into a seated position.

"I hate ditching you in your time of need."

She releases an emotional chuckle at that, "I am not in a time of need. I'm just hormonal right now and missing my boyfriend. And sex. I'm definitely missing sex with my boyfriend."

"Well then…" he's smiling; she can practically hear the smile on his face, "I can't really help you with that, especially all the way here in Chicago," she laughs at that, "but I can help be the distraction that you need. Maybe after my meeting? I'll rush through it for you."

"There's no need to do that," she reassures, dragging her laptop back onto her lap, "I need to get some work done. And if all goes as planned, I have a skype date tonight with my boyfriend."

"So you'll finally have a chance to see his face?"

"If nothing comes up," she sighs, shoving a strand of hair behind her ear, "we've been trying to have skype dates for the last couple of days. Keep your fingers crossed."

"You'll talk to him. I have faith," he whispers the last remark when voices begin to fill the room; his meeting was close to starting, "I do have to go, Er. Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course. I'll always be alright."

-x-

The paparazzi and the fans were hot on his heels. Jay swerved right and slipped into the building behind an elderly couple who had just finished walking their dog. At some point, he had gotten separated from his bandmates. A night out at the bar turned into them being chased down by flash photography, cellphones recording videos and fans trying to touch him, hug him and even attempt to place a kiss on his cheek. They had all been separated from each other.

He could only hope that Rixton, Mouse and Ruzek had gotten away unscathed.

Just as he entered the elevator, he saw fans piling into the building, scanning the lobby in search of him. When their eyes locked onto his, he reached out for the close button and pressed against it excessively. He heard his cell ring; it could possibly be Erin but he honestly didn't have the opportunity to answer. The fans locked in on him, shouted out his direction and all raced towards him. Fortunately, the elevator doors slammed shut and he took it to the top floor.

Jay suddenly released a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. A little over an hour ago, they had arrived in Atlanta, Georgia. They had a straight flight from Las Vegas to Atlanta and never truly got an opportunity for downtime since the moment they landed. After checking into their hotel rooms, they had an interview and then to celebrate a great performance in Las Vegas, they had gone out to the bar.

That was a mistake.

That was a mistake that led him here. At the time he entered the building, he couldn't exactly take in his location. Now as the elevator doors opened, he could. He's at an apartment building in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia. He's walking distance from his hotel but there is no way he can possibly get from his current location to his desired location without notifying the herd of paparazzi and fans.

His phone rings again. This time, he checks and answers it; it's Ruzek.

"Where are you?" He's out of breath.

"I took cover in an apartment building that's about two blocks from the hotel. Where are you?"

"I made it to the hotel," he answers; Burgess is in the background on the phone with Mouse, "have you spoken to Rixton? Mouse took cover in an antique shop a block over."

"You're the first person I spoke with since the psychos were unleashed."

"Alright, stay put. We're going to try and get into contact with Rixton and then Will and we'll see how we can tame the savages."

Jay glanced down at his cell; it's an hour past the time of his scheduled skype date with Erin. Shit. He's a horrible boyfriend. Jay sighs and nods, completely forgetting that Ruzek is unable to see him. He runs his hand through his hair before speaking, "And what am I supposed to do while I stay put?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you'll find something to do. Oh, Rixton's calling. I'll call you back."

Before Jay could utter another word, Ruzek hangs up. And he's immersed in silence. The hall is eerily quiet, except for the sound of his shoes walking along the carpeted floor. He's looking down at the phone in his hand, staring at the wallpaper of his cell, a photo of Erin that he recently took during his last visit. She's smiling at the camera; her face is flushed and her cheeks are tinted red. The sun was setting in the background of the photo, causing an ethereal halo to surround her. His angel. That's what she was. And he missed her.

Jay leaned his back against the wall; an apartment door to his left and another to his right limited the space he had but he made it work. He slid down until he's seated; legs stretched out and phone resting in his hand. His eyes have never left her picture. He's supposed to be in his hotel room right now, looking at her through the screen of his laptop. Right now, he's supposed to be talking to her, flirting with her, seducing her with lilt in his voice and smolder of his eyes. This is the longest he's been without sex and it's only been two weeks, going on three. This skype date was supposed to bide him over until she's in his arms again. This was a long time coming; he was supposed to see her, envision her in his arms, he had every intention of initiating phone sex or video call sex, whatever the term for it is with her. But, that's ruined. Who knows how long he'll have to stay put and wait it out?

There's a lack of physical intimacy in their relationship. And it's driving him crazy.

There's a lack of interaction. And it's driving him out of his mind.

How is this relationship going to last when it's looking like they're going to be spending more time a part from each other than together?

His thumb hovers over the call button and before he convinces himself to do it, she beat him to it. He has an incoming video call and he eagerly accepts it. He's impatiently waiting as their phones search for a connection to clear up the freezing image.

"Can…" she's cut off; she's talking but he's unable to hear it. Her face is frozen in the frame. He hears her voice in patches, it's spotty; he can hardly make out what she's saying.

This stupid apartment building has poor public Wi-Fi. He waits anyway. He'd rather talk to her with a slow connection than not talk to her at all. There's a weak signal; he glances down at the bars on his phone and his lack of connection to Wi-Fi which explains the fading of her voice, the static pauses in her words and the frozen image of her face.

"Jay…"

He cuts her off, "Erin, I can hardly hear you. You're breaking up."

"Can…you…"

It's cutting in and out. He's close to throwing his phone down the hallway. It's pissing him off.

"Erin, can you hear me?" She says nothing; her lack of response answers the question.

"Jay…" she's still cutting in and out.

In an effort to fix the problem, he jumps to his feet, holding his cell above his ear as he makes his way further down the hallway.

"Can you…" he's slowly finding stronger service and a stronger Wi-Fi connection, "Can you hear…" it's getting there; he keeps walking until he approaches the other end of the hallway, "Can you hear me?"

"Now I can," he smiles, taking a seat against the wall, between the two doors of another apartment, "ahh," the look on his face is indescribable, "there's my girl." The picture cleared up.

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me."

"Never," he whispers, shaking his head to emphasize his point, "I kind of got in a predicament which kind of hampered my plans for our skype date."

"What happened?"

And in the matter of five minutes –which is impressive considering how much has happened in the last few hours- he explains everything. He tells her of his busy day, his full schedule and his escape from the paparazzi and the fans. By the end, she's laughing. And it kind of takes away the frustration and the annoyance he felt about the entire situation.

"You really think that's funny, huh?" He's grinning madly; the smile on his face stretches from ear to ear.

"I'm sorry," she attempts to straighten her face –it doesn't work, "yes babe, that's hilarious. I'm just picturing you running through the streets of Atlanta with screaming teenagers and adults chasing you from behind. I keep picturing the look that was probably on your face."

"I must say," he whispers, his fingers running across the outline of her jawline, "I miss that smile of yours. It's almost been two weeks since I last saw you."

She sobers up at that.

As they both had feared, being in a long distance relationship sucks. And it's only been two weeks. What will happen tomorrow? How will they feel in two days, a week, maybe a month?

During their time apart they had sent texts, called each other and even sent emails on the off chance that one of them didn't respond fast enough to a text message. This cannot be the route their relationship goes; this can't be the turning point for them. They already have so many challenges stacked against them; they cannot have the stressors of a long distance relationship working against them too.

"I miss you too," her breathy words make him smile. It's weak and uncertain but it's a smile nonetheless. And her equally uncertain smile pulls at his heart.

"Fuck. This sucks," he says through gritted teeth; his cell resting in the large palm of his left hand as he holds it up at an angle to collect his entire face in the screen, "This long distance thing is bullshit." He sees the door of an apartment unit open up across from him, a couple steps out, holding the hand of their child, "It's been two weeks, babe, and the time isn't making the distance any easier. It's fucking killing me."

He earns a collective glare from the parents as the mother covers the ears of her kid while she leads the little boy towards the elevator. He doesn't feel sorry for it. Instead, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back towards his girlfriend, "I honestly didn't think it would bother me as much as it is right now. I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smell. I miss your humor. And I miss the sex, I miss the fucking sex Erin," the father of the boy strengthens his glare, but once again, Jay ignores it and rolls his eyes, "I hate to admit this but I think this is the longest I've been celibate. I have all of this built up frustration, anger and irritation and I'm taking it out on everybody. And now I'm stuck in some dilapidated apartment building hiding out from some psychotic fans that won't take a hint and leave me the fuck alone!"

"Seriously, dude, come on watch your mouth!" This time the father of the young boy shouts from down the hallway; the elevator seems to be taking longer than usual.

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Jay sees Erin's eyes bulge out at the tone of his voice and the malice in his word choice. He was no longer his charming self –at least to strangers and outsiders. He was angry. He had so much tension pent up inside of him that needed a release, but his girlfriend was currently miles and miles away. He needed her. He needed someone. He needed a release.

"What do you need?" Erin remains calm; it seems as though she's moved closer to the camera.

His hand runs down his face and he emits a sigh, "I need sex. I need you."

"What can I do?"

He doesn't answer right away. He's honestly thinking to himself. Fortunately the family is gone, but unfortunately, he's still stuck in the hallway of this building. He hasn't heard anything from Ruzek, Rixton, Mouse or even his own brother. He was stranded for the time being and sexually frustrated. He needed to see her, to touch her, to kiss her, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and bury himself in between her legs. He wanted to feel her nails scratch along his back, he wanted to feel her teeth bite against his ear and he wanted to hear her voice call out his name.

And that's when he remembers. Kim had an idea. It wasn't a good one though, but it's worth a shot. It wouldn't hurt to mention it, to plant the seed in her head.

"Burgess had an idea. I got excited about it until I realized it probably wouldn't work."

"What was it?"

"She figured we could rotate visits. One Friday afternoon, one of us flies to the other after work and then on Sundays we say goodbye and fly back," he shrugs his shoulders and he knows that she could see the disappointment in his face at the thought of him getting excited about the prospect only to realize that it wouldn't pan out.

"Yeah that wouldn't work."

They both knew it. He shouldn't have allowed his hopes to get so high. High hopes only led to disappointment.

Money wasn't the problem. It was their schedules; it was their careers. What's the point in having all the money that one may desire only to not enjoy using it the way you want? He wants to travel the world with her alongside him. He wants to fly her out here to Georgia. He wants her to be sitting beside him on this dirty carpet. He wants so much from her. He wants to spoil her. He wants to buy her the moon and the stars. Maybe an island? Maybe he can look into that. He wants to get her everything that's her heart's content. She'll never have to want for nothing. The life of a rockstar's girlfriend was one that many women wouldn't mind living. She could quit her job and join him on the tour.

She wouldn't want that though. That would be selfish of him to request that.

The longer they're together –in a relationship- the harder it is to be apart. It's approaching the end of July; they haven't been together for too long, but they've been together long enough for him to get attached. The thought of almost losing her put things into perspective for him.

He ran his hand over his face once more, whispering the next question that plagued his mind, "When will I see you again?"

The pause on her end makes him nervous as he awaits an answer. And when he gets one, he kind of wishes he hadn't asked.

"I don't know."

And this is why he didn't do relationships. He didn't want to get attached. And now that he is, he has to live with it. He has to live with the skype dates; he has to be content with the lack of intimacy in their relationship –only resorting to phone sex when they're both desperate. It's not enough though. It bided him over for the first week but he needs more, he needs the feel of a woman's body pressed against his own, he needed the kisses, the smell and the sound of pleasure that only he could give them. Her. He needed the sound of pleasure that only he could give her.

"Jay…"

He looks back at the camera when she calls his name. He's speechless at what he finds. She's naked; her phone must be propped up against her dresser. Her hair is pooled around her shoulders and her hands are resting delicately upon her hips.

He groans, "Erin," the things this woman does to him; he adjust the front of his pants as they grow tighter at the sight of her, at the sound of her as her hands delicately roam her body, "I'm in public and I don't have any earphones."

And when she shrugs her shoulders and continues to wander her body with her hands, -moaning louder he notices- he thinks if it's possible to fall more in love with this woman then he already has. Jay grins, feeling the weight of his sexually pent up energy alleviate some at the feel of his free hand unbuttoning his jeans and dipping underneath the waistband of his boxers.