A/N: two chapters after this one and the epilogue! Hope you guys are ready for it! ;) You know what I'm not ready for? The last episode of Chicago Fire tonight! I totally get why this is the last episode but I'm still gonna miss my show and that would be the case whether last ep was 20 or 23. I'm hoping I'll have plenty to keep me busy writing during hiatus but we'll see! I definitely have some things ready to go once this fic is wrapped up! ;)

Happy reading!

angellwings

CHAPTER THIRTY: Been Waiting All Day

"Hey," Sylvie says as she finds Casey in the common area later.

"Hey," he repeats as his eyes flick over to a nearby wall clock. She watches as he grimaces very slightly. He knows what's coming.

She nods over to the pantry where they can have some semblance of privacy. He follows immediately, comically cutting off whatever conversation he's been having with Mouch.

"We'll talk about it later then!" Mouch calls out dryly as they both walk away.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything important," Sylvie tells Matt with a mirthful grin.

"Trudy and Herrmann are arguing about maraschino cherries again," Matt replies with an eye roll. "Mouch is stuck in the middle."

"So, life or death then. Got it," she jokes with a soft chuckle. "I've got to go so I can make my appointment."

"Right," he says with a thick swallow. He looks as if he is working very hard to maintain a neutral expression. She appreciates the effort.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm done and tell you what the doctor says," she assures him.

He nods, stiffly. "Sounds good."

She smiles fondly at him and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for being okay with this." She says as she wraps her arms around him. "You're adorable when you're trying not to be so grumpy."

"Something about this doesn't feel right," he confesses as he returns her embrace. "I just can't put my finger on it."

"I think maybe," she replies with a hesitant smile. "This is a part of that detaching ourselves from each other issue. Sounds like growing pains to me, Matt."

"I don't know, maybe," he replies with a tired sigh.

She places a quick kiss to his jaw as she steps out of his arms. "It's just a doctor's appointment. I'll be fine."

"You're right," he says. She can tell he's forcing himself to nod. He smiles softly at her as he continues. "You'll be fine. I'll just keep reminding myself of that, and I'm sure I'll snap out of it."

"We can talk more about it later if you don't," she assures him. "See you later."

She looks back over her shoulder only once as she leaves just to verify that Matt didn't follow her. When she looks back, he's standing in the kitchen with a look of concentration on his face as if not walking her out is causing him pain. Briefly, she starts to get a bad vibe too but she brushes it off as a side effect of her empathetic heart. If Casey feels something, she's started to feel it too and this is no exception.

She's just going to the doctor. She'll be fine.

And, it turns out, she is. The appointment goes off without a hitch. She gets there safely, the doctor clears her for duty, hands her the reinstatement forms, and sends her on her way. No problems or complications of any kind.

She pulls out her phone as she steps outside and starts to call Matt only to have her phone ring with an incoming call. She glances down at the screen and her brow furrows as Hailey's name and number appears. She immediately answers.

"Hey, Hailey," Sylvie says lightly. "What's up?"

"Well, I thought I would call and give you the good news. The case is officially closed. We were able to back up the suicide with evidence so Hope's killer is now officially off the streets," Upton informs her. "You and Cruz can get back to your normal lives."

"That's great!" Sylvie exclaims. Though, it doesn't feel great. She understands Hailey's words, but there's doubt there nonetheless. She's been living with this for so long.

Can it really be over?

"I'll let you go so you can call Cruz and give him the good news," Hailey suggests. "Let me know if there's anything else you need!"

"Thanks! I will! I appreciate you guys taking this on for me," she replies gratefully.

"Anytime," Upton assures her. "All you have to do is ask."

She hangs up with Upton and walks to her car. She doesn't call Matt until she's sitting in the driver's seat with the engine running. The call goes to voicemail after several rings. He's probably out on a call. It is rush hour, after all.

"Hey, Matt! Just wanted to give you an update on the appointment. It went great. I'm cleared for duty and back on Ambo next shift. Also, Hailey called and they officially closed the case! She said Cruz and I can move back into our place!" Sylvie takes a beat before going any further. Matt may not like the next part of her plan. "I'm going to go over to the apartment now and check on things. Maybe do some cleaning. Give me a call when you can!"

She pauses awkwardly before scrambling to hang up. Her tongue got caught on a couple of words that she barely managed to withhold. She has to hang up quickly to keep her from throwing them out there in a voicemail of all things.

The voice in her head says them when her actual voice cannot.

"Love you!"

Holy shit, what? Why did that almost escape her lips? Is that true? Does she love him? It only takes a few seconds of soul searching to find the answer.

Yes.

Yes, she does love him.

But it's only been a few weeks! How can she possibly love him already?

"Oh, no, Sylvie," she admonishes herself with a wince. "No. What the hell? What happened to taking it slow?"

She allows herself a brief moment of panic before pulling out onto the road and setting off for her apartment. While she drives she thinks back on the weeks since the wreck. Slowly, but surely, the development of her feelings starts to fall into place. Every day since, she's fallen a little harder and a little faster. It was all because of him. He's been entirely too good to her. He's supported her and cared for her every step of the way, but never in a way that felt condescending. Even today, when she got a little frustrated with him being overprotective he still never crossed that line into overbearing and that makes all the difference in the world. Sylvie understands that distinction all too well. In fact, in a lot of ways it allows her to appreciate his overprotective nature more. It's another example of how he's more of a partner or helpmate than she's ever had before.

Of course, she loves him. How could she not? He never gave her any other choice.

So, what happened to taking it slow? Matt happened.

And she couldn't love him more for it.

She has no idea what she's going to do about it or if she should tell him but, for the time being, that doesn't matter. She wears a goofy grin all the way up to her apartment. Right now, she wants to enjoy this feeling. She wants to enjoy the giddy rush and heart pounding excitement that comes with a positive self realization. She wants to think about Matt and put her adrenaline to good use.

When she steps inside, it's clear the apartment has been abandoned for a few weeks. It's going to need a good hard clean. It just so happens she has a sudden rush of energy to burn.

She gets to work and furiously cleans the bathrooms and her bedroom. By the time she reaches the living room and the kitchen, she realizes it's dinnertime and she's starving. She orders Chinese food from her favorite neighborhood place (that she's missed dearly). As she hangs up with them, Casey finally calls her back.

She's still electrified from realizing she loves him, but the first time she says those words to him will not be over the phone. She will not tell him during this phone conversation, she promises herself.

"Hey!" She says brightly as she answers the call.

"Hi," he replies. "You at your place?"

"Yes," she answers. "Halfway through a deep clean, already. How are things there?"

"Just finished clean up on a multivehicle pile up," he informs her. "It was a madhouse. Took forever to clear the debris."

"God, that sounds awful. Did everybody make it?" Sylvie asks as she leans against her kitchen counter. Suddenly, only hearing his voice isn't good enough. Especially for this answer. "Wait. Switch to FaceTime, please."

"Ah-okay, how do I switch it?"

She presses her lips together to keep from laughing. His unsure voice is adorable and she can picture his confused expression in her head. God, she loves his aversion to technology. (There's that word again. Jesus, how did she not realize her feelings sooner?)

"Look at your screen and press the button that says 'FaceTime'," she instructs once she has her amusement under control.

"Got it. Hold on-"

His face fills the screen and she can't resist beaming at him with a full smile.

"There you are, handsome," she says happily.

He chuckles and blushes slightly. "I don't know about that. I probably look as tired as I feel."

He does, but it doesn't mean he's not handsome.

"Everybody made it," he tells her as he answers her earlier question. "At least as far as I know, anyway."

"Glad to hear that," she replies honestly.

"Congratulations on the all clear," Matt tells her with a proud grin. "We're all ready to have you back on Ambo. Especially Foster."

She laughs and nods. "I'm sure. Rafferty driving her crazy yet?"

"More like the other way around," Matt tells her with a snort. "Rafferty asked me when you were coming back earlier. Now, I can give her an answer."

"Yes. Please, tell her I'll be back on my rig next shift and it better be just how I left it," Sylvie says possessively.

Matt's smile turns fond as he nods. "I'll tell her." He stops and gives her a thoughtful glance. He only speaks again after he's had a moment to consider his words. "We should go out tomorrow night. To celebrate."

"Celebrate?" She asks.

"The case is wrapped up and you're back on 61. I'd say those are pretty amazing reasons to celebrate, Sylvie," he says with an amused glance - as if he can't understand why she's confused. "You pick the place and I'll treat."

"Well, if you insist. What kind of out are we talking?" She asks with a playful quirk of her brow.

"The kind of out that will allow me to make a reservation with a day's notice," he tells her, and then a wolfish smirk stretches across his face. "And that might also put you in a little black dress."

Sylvie props her phone up on top of a nearby stack of cookbooks and then pulls her lap top out of her bag. "Well, with that kind of criteria, let me do a little browsing first."

Matt laughs wryly. "Oh, boy, how intense is this research going to be? Because I have paperwork I need to get to-"

"Shut up, you," she says with a light laugh. "Let me work my magic." There's a loud knock at her door and she pulls her cash out of her back pocket. "Oh, that's my Chinese food. Do you know how amazing it feels to order delivery from my favorite place again? This has been the best day."

Casey grins fondly at her. "I'm glad. It's nice to see you so happy."

She doesn't know how to respond to that. It's too beautiful of a concept for words. She's not sure anyone, besides her parents, has ever said that to her. "Thank you, Matt." She stops for a moment to meet his eyes with a grateful glance. "Alright, I'll be right back. Let me just pay for this food."

She eagerly opens the door with the cash for the food extended out in front her. Her eyes land on a head angled down, wearing a red ball cap brandishing the letters "F.F.D." Her entire body tenses. She knows that ballcap. She saw it in her nightmares for weeks. She could never see the logo clearly but the colors and the shapes match the vague outline in her head. The man that ran her off the road and murdered Hope was wearing that hat. Her throat goes dry and forces her to swallow. The shock causes her to take one reflexive step back as the person standing in her doorway looks up.

"You're finally home," he says with a dry chuckle. "I've been waiting all day."

Oh god, she knows that voice. She knows that face. She knows him.

"Jordan?"

"Sylvie," he says calmly. "Can I come in?"

She grabs the door and pulls it as closed as she can. She talks herself out of slamming the door in his face. He doesn't know she recognizes his cap. She doesn't want to tip him off in case that means what she thinks it means, but how can it? The only thing it can mean is that he was the one who - But he can't be because PD found Hope's ex dead with a confession lying next to him! How is that even possible?

"I-um, you know, now's not the best time. This place is kind of a mess," Sylvie says as she tries to aim a pleasant smile at him. All the while her brain is screaming at her not to panic. "Hey, actually, I never got your number when you were at the Firehouse. We should trade numbers and then I can call you when I finish up here. Maybe we can grab a coffee?"

"That sounds nice," Jordan says with a flat grin. "But I think we both know you're trying to brush me off. And that's not going to work. Let me in, Sylvie."

"I would love to let you in, but honestly, Jordan, this apartment is a terrible mess and I-"

Something cold, metal, and blunt is suddenly pushed into her ribs. A terrified chill runs through her veins as she realizes what it is.

"I don't want to use this, Sylvie, but if you don't let me in I may have to."

The sound of a gun cocking echoes around them, louder than any explosion she's ever heard.

Fuck. Oh god. What is she supposed to do now?

A/N: I'm sorry. *grins evilly* Mostly.