A/N: IT'S CHICAGO FIRE NIGHT. YAY! Also I have been motivated like CRAZY LATELY. I'm currently writing chapter 28! Remember the days when I was struggling to be 2-3 chapters head?! Anyways, this chapter is a little short and I'm sorry about that, BUT next chapter is like a SUPER chapter. it's nearly three times as long as this fic's average chapter. So I will make it up to you next time ;)

HAPPY READING!

angellwings

PS - PRAY FOR BRETT AND CASEY INTERACTIONS TONIGHT GUYS. I NEED AS MUCH OF THEM AS I CAN GET OVER THE LAST THREE EPISODES. Also, STAY HOME AND STAY SAFE!


CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: Take a Crack At It


Sylvie's been peacefully sleeping for an hour when Matt slips out of bed. He grabs his phone and steps out into the living room. His first phone call is to Boden. He updates Boden on Sylvie and her case and Boden instructs him to call Voight.

Voight.

The last person on earth Matt wants to trust with Sylvie's safety. The last person on earth Matt wants to trust in general really. But unfortunately, he's the Sergeant of PD's most successful unit and has more than enough authority to take over Hope's case. If anyone can find the guy who tried to kill Sylvie, it'll be Intelligence. That's a fact. It's a fact he hates, but it's still a fact.

He dials the number in his phone that he never uses. Voight owes Matt several hundred favors after that strip club case, but he's the nuclear option. The "In case of emergency break glass" option. Matt avoids calling him if at all possible.

He can't avoid it now.

This time he has to break the glass.

"Voight."

"It's Casey."

"What? You don't even bother with a hello anymore?"

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be. I need your help-No, I take that back. I don't need your help. If it was for me I wouldn't be calling," he replies with an irritated huff. "Sylvie Brett needs your help. I'm calling for her."

"The paramedic in the hit and run Spencer's investigating? The one who helped Antonio and I out on that bombing case a while back?" Voight asks with obvious interest.

"That's her, but Spencer isn't investigating the hit and run anymore," Matt informs him. "Yesterday afternoon he told her he needed to move on to higher priority cases."

Voight scoffs. "Yeah, that sounds like Spencer. Let me guess, you want my guys to take a crack at it? Right?"

"This guy knows where Sylvie lives, Voight. I need-she needs him found. We can't let her keep looking over her shoulder. She doesn't deserve that," he states firmly.

He hears a noise on the other end of the phone. A wary affirmative hum. "You mean you can't. You sweet on this paramedic, Casey?"

God, someday he wants to punch this prick in the face. Someday. Not now. Because right now, Voight is actually useful.

"I don't see how that matters. Will you take the case or not?"

There's a beat of silence, and then…

"Yeah, I'll take it. If only to piss off Spencer. Tell your girlfriend I'll be in touch."

He hangs up before Casey can say anything else. It's a good thing too because he was a moment away from blessing out the leader of the Intelligence Unit. That would not have helped him or Sylvie. He's so angry at Voight that it takes a solid minute for him to register what just happened.

Intelligence is taking the case.

Hope's murder will continue to be investigated.

A weight is lifted from his shoulders and he can't wait to tell Sylvie. She'll be just as relieved as he is. As much as he enjoys having her in the loft, he knows it's important to her to stand on her own two feet. The case being active again is another step to getting her life back.

"Who was that?"

He spins at the sound of a soft groggy voice to find Sylvie standing at the hallway opening with his Chicago Fire hoodie around her shoulders. He didn't notice before but she's dressed almost entirely in his clothes. The only thing that belongs to her are the blue plaid sleep shorts that hug her waist, hips, and thighs. She's wearing one of his old Blackhawks shirts underneath the hoodie and on her feet are a pair of white socks that look a bit too big. His clothes look like they belong on her and that's potentially dangerous.

He blinks at her through a surprise rush of heat in his veins. The want he feels for this sleepy version of Sylvie Brett catches him entirely off guard.

"Uh, Voight. That was Voight," he says as his voice cracks over the words.

Her brow furrows in confusion. "Voight?"

He crosses the room to meet her as he nods. "Intelligence is taking Hope's case."

A smile blooms across her face and her eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah, apparently Voight doesn't like Spencer all that much," Casey tells her. "He wants to mess with him."

She takes a deep breath and then jumps into his arms with a squeal. "Thank you! Matt, just-thank you!"

The relief he felt a few minutes ago increases at the evidence of Sylvie's happiness. His arms go around her and he bends back slightly to steady them both. "I really didn't do that much-"

"Please, the whole Firehouse knows how you feel about Voight," Sylvie says with a chuckle. "The fact that you called him for me-Matt, it means so much. I really needed this. Thank you. God, and I am so sorry for being such a mess earlier. I sobbed all over you."

"Don't apologize for that," he insists as he tightens his hold on her. "Don't apologize for confiding in me. I want to be here for you, Sylvie. I want that more than anything. Please never stop letting me do that."

"I'll try my hardest - as long as I get to be there for you sometimes too," she promises. "This needs to be a two way street. Okay?"

He places a soft kiss on her temple before he answers her. "Okay. Yes, I'll try my hardest too."

"Good because you're wonderful, Matt Casey, and you deserve to have someone in your corner anytime you need it. I'd really like to be that person," she says nervously. "I mean, if that's okay with you?"

He laughs and then cranes his neck back to meet her eyes. "If that's okay with me? Sylvie Brett, I would be honored to have you in my corner anytime you want."

For as long as she wants, he thinks as he bites down that four letter word again. He gets closer and closer to letting it slip out each time he thinks of it.

He steps out her arms and tugs her toward the kitchen. "Come on, I'll make you breakfast. What are you in the mood for?"

"You don't have to—"

"I want to," he says as he stares at her thoughtfully. He's wondering if he can guess what she might want for breakfast after a night of crying. He thinks about the funfetti pancakes from their date and smirks at her. "I can make pancakes and I'm pretty sure we have whipped cream and sprinkles left over from Stella's 'everything out of a carton' dinner."

Her gaze lights up and she excitedly plants a firm kiss on his lips.

"I would love that," she tells him as she pulls away. "Also, does anyone around here have a candy stash? I would like to stress eat my way through a package of Sour Patch Kids, please."

He laughs and shakes his head. "We don't have any of those and even if we did I wouldn't tell you. I know you have one hell of a sweet tooth but pancakes and candy is way too much sugar. Especially for you."

"Fine," she says with a pout. From her position beside him, she wraps her arms around his middle and rests her head on his shoulder. "I guess I'll stress eat a huge stack of pancakes instead." A second after her head lands on his shoulder it pops back up with an alarmed expression. "You're still in jeans and a sweater! You laid down with me for like an hour in jeans? That couldn't have been comfortable."

"I was a little more concerned with you than my comfort in that particular moment," he tells her.

"God, you're sweet," Sylvie says in amazement.

He blushes and ignores her compliment. Instead of replying he leads her over to the stool in front of the kitchen island. She sits down but before he can walk away from her to start breakfast, she loops her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans and pulls him back to her. Her legs part to allow him to stand between them. Once she has him where she wants him, she releases his belt loops and trails her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and then into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingers tighten and pull his lips down to hers. They meet in an exploratory kiss, with open mouths and twining tongues.

His hands find her back to slip under her borrowed shirt. The kisses continue to deepen. Her legs tighten around him. His fingers are just grasping at the bottom of her shirt to pull it over her head when the sound of the loft door unlocking drowns out the sound of their kissing.

"Oh, come on, I know I pushed for this to happen but I didn't push for it to happen in front of me."

Sylvie laughs into his mouth before leaning back and looking up at Stella. "That was the risk you took, Stella. You should have seen this coming."

"At least go to his room," Stella says with a good natured teasing grin.

"I can't cook breakfast from my room," Matt tells her.

"You can't cook breakfast while making out either," she fires back.

Matt scoffs and smirks at her. "You and Severide manage."

A short bark of a laugh escapes Sylvie which she quickly stifles with a hand over her mouth.

Stella quirks a brow at them both for a long moment and then chuckles, shrugging casually.

"Fair enough," she replies. "Speaking of Kelly. Is he here?"

"His room," Matt tells her as he nods toward Severide's closed bedroom door.

"If you're making breakfast," Stella says as she passes them on the way to Severide's room. "You should make enough for all of us." At Sylvie's near parental glare, Stella adds, "Please?"

"Are you guys sticking around long enough for it?" He asks with a curious grin.

"We thought we might stay home today, yeah," Stella answers. "You guys should stay too. We can hang out." She focuses a knowing grin on Sylvie. "Maybe watch some HGTV."

"There is a House Hunters marathon on today," Sylvie says, giving Matt a pleading gaze.

He laughs and shakes his head. Though his next words contradict the head shake. "Fine, we can stay and...watch House Hunters."

Sylvie lets out a soft squeal and pops a quick kiss against his cheek. "What did I say? You're the sweetest."

That's how he ends up spending 24 hours of his 48 off watching back to back episodes of House Hunters from the comfort of his couch with Sylvie snuggled into his side. It's not the way he would have chosen to use a day off but he has to admit...he didn't hate it.

Though he imagines it's hard to hate anything while Sylvie's curled into him. With her arms wrapped around him and her legs thrown over his he could probably be convinced to enjoy a lot of things he wouldn't normally be interested in.

And if that makes him a sucker then so be it.

He'll happily be a sucker for Sylvie Brett any day of the week.