Author's Note: Thank you, guest, for the sweet review! I can't believe somebody cares so much . :) Thank you. This is for you. :) It's your requested Part 2 of Chapter 3. It's a different take on Chapter 3, rather than a direct continuation. I hope that's okay :) I hope you like it! :)

What If We Weren't (Drunk Enough).

"Jack…"

She breathed out his name in two separate syllables. Scared. Shaky. Stupid, oh, so, stupid. She had a husband. She was married. She married the man. Too fast. Too soon. He was right. Jack was right.

She said his name again, clearer this time. Focused. "Jack."

He cocked his head to the side, regarded her with a cautious, but curious expression, and he was always, always, straight with her. He spoke the truth, and sure, she talked the talk, but she wasn't doing much living of her truth right now, was she. Not in the slightest.

"Andy? Are you okay? You look…are you still drunk?"

He reached up, pushed the fallen hair from the front of her ponytail out of her face in an action so sweet, so gentle, so, fucking vulnerable that it hurt her. She flinched, but she didn't mean to. The look on his face hurt her even more.

"No." She breathed out through her mouth, leaned in towards him as she took his face in her hands. "I'm not drunk enough. Not for what I'm about to do."

"What are – "

She cut him off with her mouth, and if it wasn't obvious, it very much was that way now as he kissed her back, readily, and with a level of skill she had missed, from him, and him alone. There was something about being kissed by Jack Gibson that makes her toes curl, and being taken by him, it makes her entire body curl.

She wants that now. She wants that bad, the body-curling sensation, and she genuinely believes in this moment that she might not stop until she gets it. She's grinding herself against him, straddling his hips on Dean Miller's couch and she's not drunk anymore. She is the furthest from it. She may even be the most sober she's ever been and that is what scares her. It scares her to death.

He pushed her roughly back from him and into the cushion, shutting his eyes tight and biting his bottom lip and she knew right then that maintaining distance right now was just as hard for him as it was for her. She was glad for that. So glad. It meant that she wasn't the only one in this.

"Andy. You can't. We can't. You have a Battalion Chief." He roughly shook his head, as if to clear it. "A husband. Robert is your husband. And you might hate him right now, he might not be your favorite person, hell, he's definetly not mine, but still, we cannot do this. It's wrong."

It shouldn't. It shouldn't make her smile, but it does. Jack isn't the biggest fan of Robert because he's jealous. Jealous that he's not the man that gets to have her. It makes her smile big.

"I know. But it doesn't mean he's the right husband."

"The – "

She didn't let him finish. She couldn't. She had to get this out because if she didn't, she would lose any guts she has, right now. Andy took yet another deep breath, this time out through her nose. She couldn't open her mouth – the strength, the courage, all of it, was suddenly and swiftly eluding her. That is, until, this time, he was the one to take her face in his hands and kiss her, kiss her just like she had kissed him, like his life depended on it.

"The right husband." Andy breathed out in almost more of a gasp than actual words after he broke their kiss. She would never quite get used to that feeling. "Robert is not the right husband, Jack, because he isn't you."

He looked surprised. As he should be. She's really thrown him in these past few minutes. She wouldn't deny that. And she almost felt bad. Almost.

"Me? What – what are you saying, here, Andy? What – don't play with my feelings like that, not when you know how I feel about you."

Now it was her turn to be surprised. She wasn't expecting anything like that. Let alone that. "How you feel about me?"

Jack shook his head at her obtuseness, whether or not it was deliberate; it wasn't, but he had no way of knowing. She honestly had no idea he still felt things. But of course he did. He's Jack, he doesn't just get over things. Not like her. Not this. And she's thinking now, as she stares into his eyes, combing through every little glimmer of hope and sadness, and what she could only call wistfulness, that maybe she's not over this. That maybe she's not over him, either.

"I love you, Andy. And not like a friend. You and I – we aren't real friends. We can't ever be because I love you too much. I will always love you too much. It's just how it is. I had a ring. I still have that ring."

"You do?"

She had no idea how to possibly react to those words, that revelation he just revealed to her right then. There was no appropriate way. None that could keep their friendship – whatever she had thought it was, that he clearly hadn't, intact; and she knew, then, that this was either going to go one way, or the other, and if it went a particular way, they couldn't ever make it work. They'd have to be nothing. Nothing at all, to each other. Not even colleagues. She'd have to transfer.

It would be too painful, seeing his face everyday, and for the first time, she thought about how painful it must be for him to see her face, everyday, knowing that she's with a man that isn't him, and with the feelings he has. She feels awful. He didn't have to say it. Except he does, and she can't breathe, the remorse is crushing her chest, and she can't damn well breathe.

"Do you know how much it hurt me – when you came right out with it like you did and said Sullivan was the guy you were seeing, sneaking around with, and then that you married him? You told me that you weren't ready for marriage, Andy. To my face. I always wondered – what changed? Did you just not love me enough?"

"Jack…" Andy trailed off, and she can hear it, in her own ears she can hear it, the way she's saying his name. Pleading, pleading with him to understand. Please understand. "I cared about – "

"Oh, don't tell me you care, Andy. It means nothing. Okay? Not to me. You care about Maya. About Vic. Dean. Travis. You care about all of them. How am I different? Huh? How?"

Andy took his hands in hers, ran her fingertips over the inner part of his wrists. She looked at the skin their, the veins, she couldn't look at his face, not yet. She would cry, she would cry, and she wouldn't be able to stop. This was all just so pitiful, and so wrong, but she hoped against hope that they would come out the other side. Together.

"I never meant it like that. I loved you. I love you. I am in love with you, Jack."

"Yeah, just like the way you're in love with Sullivan right? That's why you married him right out of the gate?"

He was angry. Hurt. Confused. Emotions that were all justifiable and warranted, but he hadn't shown them to her before. It spoke to the kind of man he was. Respectable. Kind. Unselfish. Her words were true, as true, and as honest as anything she's ever spoken. She was in love with this man.

"No. You were right, before. When you said that I was always mad at my husband. I haven't been happy with him, not really, not since we took the leap and got married in front of my dad. He was dying, and it felt like the right thing to do, I convinced Papi and myself that it was. But…I don't think I really loved him. Not in the way I love you, still. We were bonded through shared experience, through trauma, and it's in and of itself a vulnerable, emotional, thing. Something that I mistook for being in love."

Jack was quiet for a minute. Processing. She let him.

"Do you – is that really what you think? I need to know now, Andy, before I kiss you again, before I do that, and possibly so much more to you, right here, on this couch. I need to know that it's over between you two, that this is what you want. Otherwise I can't. I won't do anything. I'll move away from you right now, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened."

Andy bit her lip. Shook her head from side to side. No. "No, we can't."

He nodded. "You're right. We can't."

They were at an impasse, staring at each other, unblinking, unmoving, until she finally said it.

"It's what I know. I love you. It's over, between Robert and me. It shouldn't have even started. In the bowling ally, you were right. I hate, and love, that you were right." She smiled at him. "So go ahead, Jack Gibson. Lay it on me."

"Yeah?" he asked her, leaning in, their mouths inches from each other now.

"Yeah," Andy repeated back to him, biting her lip to tame a smile, and raising her brow. "You do what needs to be done."

Before they could kiss again, their phones went off and both of them groaned with the realization that this fire was still going on, with, or without them.

"Shit," Andy grumbled, not bothering to watch her mouth.

She happened to know that Jack kind of liked it when she was a little filthy, especially when they were being a little filthy themselves, which clearly was not happening anytime soon. No matter how bad either of them wanted it.

"Shit is right," Jack said, getting up off of the couch and running his hands through his hair. She watched him look around the room, spot Montgomery and Dixon, but still, his eyes searched the room. "Where's Hughes and Miller?"

Andy shrugged. "No idea."

She stood up too, brushing the lint off her pants, more for something to do than the actual presence of lint, and sighed. She loved a good five alarm, but she was hungover, and Robert was having surgery today, and she wasn't sure how and when she was going to break the news to him. She was really feeling like such an insensitive, selfish, bitch, right about now. She had to distract herself, at least for a few more minutes, or what she could afford.

"Maybe in one of the bedrooms still?"

Andy followed Jack into the hallway and into the first bedroom on the right and came face to face with a full screen viewing experience of Vic and Dean sharing a moment. An actual, couple sort of moment. A kiss. And very much not any sort of friendly kiss either. In fact, she was pretty sure she could see Vic's tongue inside of Dean's mouth; they weren't very sophisticated in the way they kissed. It looked like it had been a long time coming, and that a lot of tension led up to this point. This very second that they were witnessing, right now.

"Uh – Hughes, Miller? Sorry to break this up but – uh – there's a five alarm that needs our attention."

The two of them broke apart like their bodies were on fire and looked shamefacedly at her and Jack from totally opposite sides of the bed. She wasn't surprised. She had a feeling this was coming. It just took a super drunken night to fuel the flames where already the embers were sparking.

"Oh. That's what that was?" Vic looked at Dean who looked at her.

"Yeah. I was going to tell you but – uh – things…um…happened."

"Clearly," Jack laughed. "No way? Hughey and Miller? Finally, Dean-O. You grew balls and told her you love her?"

Dean actually looked quite proud of himself. It was adorable. "Yeah. I did, man. And it didn't ruin our friendship."

"Clearly," Andy repeated Jack's earlier statement and he smiled at her. She smiled back. "Looks like that makes two friendships not ruined, today."

Jack grasped her hand and she held his just as tightly and Vic widened her eyes. "No. Herrera, what the hell, you double dipped?"

Andy laughed, fondly remembering their conversation from eons ago now. "Sure. If we're calling it that. I realized that Jack was the one I should have married, in the first place. And so…"

Vic grinned. "Awe. How cute. Not as cute as Dean and me but cute. Besides, I'm much more comfortable calling Gibson your husband anyhow. It fits."

Andy grinned back at her. She hasn't smiled this much since her dad had passed. It felt good. It felt really, really good. Even better, was calling Jack her husband. Soon. At some point in the future.

Robert was a good man, one who deserved a little bit more dignity and grace than that. He just wasn't her man. Her man was – mhm – her man was sexy as hell, funny, protective, loving, sweet, he was everything she needed, and she doesn't know how she let him go. Now that she has him, she would never let him go again.

"It does. It fits perfectly."

Author's Note: I'm currently binge-watching 911 on Disney Plus. Needed a new show after Station 19. :) Love it, definitely considering writing fic. Would anyone read it? :) And as always, sorry for any typos :P And sorry that it's a little short, and sorry for throwing not-platonic Vic/Dean in there. I love it, personally, and they (the writers) keep teasing it so *shrugs*