Hank dropped Kate at the airport with a promise that he would call her later and headed back to his empty house. As he guided his truck through the traffic, he became lost in his thoughts, mind drifting to the last week spent in a certain detective's arms.

His brain was telling him that getting involved with a subordinate was a terrible idea. There were a million and one ways that the whole thing could go sideways and, ultimately, he had his 'no in-house relationships' rule for a reason. To protect the unit and make sure each of them went home every night. Emotional attachments made people irrational despite their best efforts to remain professional.

But now, he'd had a taste of her. He knew exactly what it felt like to be held in her arms, to feel her lips on his skin, to be inside of her.

With all of that knowledge, he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be able to stop even if he wanted to.

Of course he had concerns about how they would handle things at work. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of her being put in harms way at his order but, ultimately, it was her job and that was a boundary that they were going to have to learn to navigate.

He knew they would have to tell the team at some point but, whilst he didn't relish the idea of having to discuss his personal relationships with the rest of the unit, it was only a matter of time until they figured it out for themselves.

He had seen the way she looked at him when she thought no-one was looking, the way her eyes would track over his form with a knowing look on her face that screamed 'I've seen you naked'. But it wasn't like he could blame her. He was almost certain that he'd been guilty of the same thing a time or two, particularly when she would lean over a desk to point at something on Kevin's computer screen, her round, denim-clad ass on full display and just begging for his palm.

Shaking his head, Hank couldn't help the grin that formed on his face at his train of thought.

After showering and changing into some clean clothes, Hank was in the process of pouring himself a cup of coffee when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a video call from Olive. A smile was already tugging at his lips when he swiped the screen and held the phone in front of him as her round face and curly flaxen hair filled the screen.

"Hank!"

"Hey, how are you guys doin'?"

She panned the phone around to show Daniel lying on his tummy on their living room floor amongst the wooden tracks of a large train set that Hank had sent him for Christmas.

"Someone wanted to say thank you for the Christmas gift. Hey Daniel, come here and speak to Grandpa Hank."

The little boy sprung to his feet and charged over to his mother, joining her on the sofa and leaning in close so that he could see his grandfather on the screen. Hank couldn't believe how much the his grandson looked like Justin. From his mop of dark hair to the wide, cheeky smile, even the deep brown eyes that he'd inherited from both his father and his grandmother.

Hank was always so grateful that Justin had Camille's eyes. When she became sick, he took comfort in the fact that he would always be able to look at his son and see his wife right there looking back at him. She would have been thrilled that those same orbs had now been passed down to their grandson.

"Hey buddy! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas Grandpa Hank! Thank you for the train set - it's so cool!"

Hank chuckled at the boy's typical six year old enthusiasm but a heavy weight settled in his chest at how much of his only grandchild's life he was already missing out on. Making a mental promise to visit them in Arizona in the New Year, Hank asked Daniel about school and what their plans were for the holidays.

"Mom and I are going to see Aunt Vicki tomorrow morning and then we're going to Michael's Mom and Dad's house in the afternoon."

'Michael?'

"Sounds great buddy. You have a great day and don't eat too much chocolate, alright?"

"I'll try! Love you Grandpa Hank."

"I love you too, kid."

With that, he bolted away from Olive's side, no doubt keen to get back to his toys and Hank could see Olive move into a different room, already expecting Hank's next question.

"So, Michael?"

Olive hadn't mentioned a boyfriend the last time they spoke but Justin had been gone five years; he couldn't be mad at her. He knew exactly what it felt like to be made a widow so young, who was he to deny her a chance to be happy?

"Yeah…he's, uh…he's a friend of my brother-in-law's. We met at a party a few months back. He's a good man, Hank. He loves Daniel like his own."

Hank had to swallow down a lump in his throat, the thought of Daniel calling anyone but Justin 'Dad' making him feel slightly nauseous.

"Daniel will always be in your life, Hank. And he will always know who his father was. But-"

"You deserve to be happy, Olive. To find someone to love you…and Daniel. I'm glad you've found it."

Her own blue eyes began to fill with unshed tears and Hank felt himself well up as the two shared a moment. Olive eventually broke the silence, her voice wavering as she did her best to keep her emotions under control.

"Thank you, Hank. It means a lot."

With a promise to fly out and see them soon, Hank cancelled the call and dropped into an armchair, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms. After a few seconds, he raised his chin and stared unseeingly across the room. Eventually his eyes focused on a selection of picture frames on the sideboard, the images capturing moments in time that felt like a million years ago.

Holding Camille in his arms, their cheeks pressed together as they smiled for the camera on their wedding day. The two of them holding hands as their friends and family threw fistfuls of confetti over them, their faces frozen in laughter as they looked at one another, love shining in their eyes. Justin as a baby, all chubby arms and toothless smiles, and then again at around Daniel's age in his little league uniform, the too-large helmet wobbling precariously on his little head. There were some newer pictures of Hank with Erin and Alvin but the final picture that his eyes settled on was taken on Daniel's first birthday. Justin was stood with one arm around Hank's shoulders, a beaming smile on his face as he cradled Daniel in the crook of his elbow. Three generations of Voights.

A sudden, heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach and he let out a deep sigh. It felt like everything was slipping away. He was scrabbling to keep a grip on it but it was like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.

Then his mind drifted to Kate and the tightness in his chest seemed to lessen, admittedly not entirely but is eased nonetheless. The last few days spent with her were some of the most content he'd had in a long time, the serenity he felt in her arms a rare luxury.

Before the CPD Gala, he had promised himself he would stay away, that he would put to bed whatever feelings he had for her. Then she turned up in that dress and all of his self-made promises went to hell. He just couldn't help himself. But he also couldn't ignore the feeling of guilt washing over him in waves at the acknowledgement of his feelings for Kate. Camille had been gone for ten years but, in his mind, she was still his wife. Pushing to his feet, he grabbed his coat and keys and headed out to his truck; he knew what he needed to do.

His knees were growing stiff from being in a crouched position for too long, the wind whipping around his face as he brushed the snow from the white marble.

In Loving Memory of Camille Voight, 6 June 1969 - 20 October 2011, 'To live in the hearts of those we love is not to die'.

He plucked away the fallen leaves and overgrowth, replacing the shrubbery with a bunch of lilies and white roses, Camille's favourites. Pushing to his feet and placing a gloved hand on the stone, he closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, letting it go slowly as he tried to settle is warring emotions.

"I love you." He muttered, tilting his head to the sky before opening his eyes and turning his attention to the deep grey granite to the his immediate right.

"Hey J."

Once again shifting his body into a crouch despite his protesting knees, Hank swiped a hand over the top of the stone to brush the pure white snow to the ground, stray snowflakes sitting in the letters engraved in the flat surface.

Justin Henry Voight, 10 October 1992 - 25 May 2016, 'Beloved Husband, Father and Son'.

"I spoke to Olive today, she's doing good. Looks like Arizona is still treating her well. Saw Daniel too. You know, he's…he's getting so big. Looks just like you."

Hank chuckled, his mind casting back to the day they sat across from each other in his living room and Justin told him that Olive was pregnant with a son.

'A boy? Oh well.'

The two of them shared a laugh, the prospect of another Voight to carry on the family name filling them both with a mixture of terror and pride. Hank got to his feet, bending at the waist to press his lips briefly to the cold stone.

"Merry Christmas Justin."

Straightening his spine, Hank patted the stone twice before turning and heading back to his car, snow crunching under his boots with each step. As he rounded a large willow tree and his truck came in to view, a familiar figure was leaning against the hood, arms crossed over their chest against the harsh weather.

"You following me Alvin?"

Alvin's mouth pulled into a wry smile underneath his moustache as he watched his friend approach.

"Knew I'd find you here."

Hank hummed in the back of his throat, not for one second surprised that Alvin knew him well enough to know exactly where he would be. Coming to a stop next to him, Hank mirrored Alvin's stance as he too rested his weight against the car. The two of them looked out over the snow-covered cemetery, the peaceful quiet surrounding them.

"Hits harder this time of year."

Alvin's tone was soft, the shared pain of loosing a child tangible in the air between them.

"You'd think it would get easier with time but I think it actually gets worse. All the things you miss, the milestones…"

At least Hank got to see Justin become a husband, a father. Alvin would never get the chance to see Lexi graduate from college or to take her for a drink at a bar. He wouldn't have the opportunity to walk her down the aisle or to hold her firstborn.

"No parent ever expects to outlive their own children, bro." Hank sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets, both the chill and the topic of conversation sending a shiver down his spine. He often wondered if losing Camille and Justin was some higher power's way of making him pay for all of his sins, a little slice of karma for all of the things he'd done wrong in his life.

"Yet here we are. Well, at least we've still got each other." Hank muttered sarcastically, Alvin letting out a bark of laughter as he leaned towards him, bumping their shoulders together before responding.

"I must have been total a fucker in a previous life if I've gotta see out the rest of this one with you."

They both laughed this time, deep chuckles emanating from their chests as they found a little bit of light in the darkness.

"I was goin' to head into the district to get some paperwork done. Wanna come with? I'll break out the good scotch."

Alvin hiked his shoulders, pushing his weight away from the truck and taking a few steps towards his own car that was parked behind Hank's.

"Sure…not like I got anywhere better to be."