A/N: Sorry about the delay in updating. This week is finals week, so I can't promise another update before the weekend.
April 15, 1999
Jimmy loathed Tax day. New Yorkers, already a surly lot, were always nastier to each other on Tax day. Add to the fact that he was going to get to spend all day in court and Jimmy knew he was going to need several stiff drinks by the end of the day. Fortunately, he knew he was going to get to have them with no fear of having to find a way home.
Tonight, after court, the squad was getting together to celebrate Bowden's promotion to Sergeant. He had already been serving as the squad's detective supervisor, so Jimmy had pulled some strings to get the brass to grant the official promotion in record time, only four months after passing the exam. In anticipation of drinking heavily to celebrate, Jimmy has already booked a room at a hotel near O'Malley's.
Parking his car in the precinct lot, Jimmy made a quick trip up to his office to grab the files he thought he might need. Rummaging around on his desk, searching for a last file, he was startled by a knock on the doorframe. Looking up, he saw Alex standing there, waving a folder at him.
"You gave it to me yesterday to review. Made me promise I wouldn't lose it." Alex walked over to the desk and set it on top of the stack of folders balanced on the corner. "Getting old, Cap?"
Stepping around the desk and picking up the stack, Jimmy smirked. "Not old, just preoccupied. I hate driving into the city on Tax days. I have to resist the urge to start shooting." Holding out his hand towards the door in invitation, he grinned at Alex. "Ready to go look at mutts in suits?"
Chuckling, Alex left the office ahead of Jimmy, waiting as he closed and locked the door. Once finished, he watched as she went to her desk and grabbed her own stack of folders, after putting her jacket on. Together they walked to the elevator, both quiet, mentally preparing themselves for the trip to the courthouse through the sea of humanity that was the Bronx during the day.
After a day of bouncing between courtrooms, talking with various DA's, eating lunch off the cart in front of the building, Jimmy was more than ready to relax and spend some quality time bullshitting with his squad. He knew that meeting at O'Malley's was a weekly ritual for his unit, but he made an effort to let them have that time without him around. They would all go to the bar on Friday night and Jimmy would spend another hour in the office, finishing paperwork, before heading home.
He had been tempted to bow out of this celebration, as well, to let them enjoy Tom's promotion without him. But Tom and Alex had both insisted that he be present, since he was responsible for getting the ball rolling. The way he had been asked, there had been no way to refuse.
Besides, he missed the camaraderie enjoyed by the rank and file members of the department, a companionship sorely lacking once a person started to ascend the command ladder. The saying "it's lonely at the top" truly did apply in the NYPD, in Jimmy's experience thus far.
So, it was with a mixture of trepidation and optimism that Jimmy opened the door to O'Malley's, the warm and smell of hops washing over him as he stepped inside. Stepping to the side of the entranceway, he gave his eyes a few moments to adjust to the low light before scanning the room for familiar faces.
As he looked around, he felt a hand on his arm, lingering longer than a stranger would. He looked down to see Alex standing next to him, a drink in her hand and a smile in her eyes.
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming, Jimmy." Taking hold of his sleeve, she pulled him along behind her. "Come on," she said over her shoulder, "we're over here."
Pushing their way through the throng of people gathered in the bar, Jimmy quickly understood why Alex was dragging him by his sleeve. Her height, while working to her advantage, would have caused him to lose sight of her quickly. Breaking through a last group of patrons, Jimmy found himself standing in front of a table, around which sat the core of his unit.
"And there he is, ladies and gentleman, the man who made this all possible." Tom slurred, raising a partially full glass in Jimmy and Alex's direction. The rest of the detectives around the table all raised their glasses, Alex stepping away from Jimmy and raising hers, as well.
With a loud volley of "cheers", everyone tossed back their drinks, emptying the glasses. Jimmy continued to stand in front of the table, his hands in his pockets, shaking his head.
Jimmy flagged down a waitress as the men in the corner booth pressed closer together, making room for he and Alex to sit. He slid into the booth, his denim-clad thigh pressing against Alex's slacks. At the touch, he inched back towards the edge, breaking the contact as he situated himself.
The waitress stopped in front of the table, in the place Jimmy had just been standing, pen at the ready for the order. Looking at all the empty glasses, Jimmy sighed. "I guess we need another round of whatever everyone else is drinking and I'd like a Bushmills, water back."
Smiling, the waitress looked from Jimmy to the others at the table. "The usual?" Her question was greeted with nods. With a sympathetic look at Jimmy, she turned to get their order.
Looking at all the empty glasses, Jimmy cocked an eyebrow at Tom. "How long have you guys been here? And what's 'the usual'?"
Tom elbowed Randy and pointed at Jimmy. "We really need to get him out more, don't ya think?"
Laughing, Randy nodded in agreement before speaking. "Cap, the usual is a whiskey shooter with a Black and Tan chaser. And most of us have been here since five. So, I'd say you've got some catching up to do."
"Looks like it." Jimmy grinned.
The waitress reappeared with a tray laden with shot and pint glasses, Jimmy's highball glass looking like an anomaly, much like he did at a table full of people still dressed in business attire. As the waitress parceled out the drinks, he pulled his wallet from his pocket, extracting his credit card and handing it to her as she straightened. "Better start a tab."
With a nod, she slipped the card into her apron and left.
While he was putting his wallet back in his pocket and getting out his pack of cigarettes, his detectives were sorting out their drinks. After everyone had two glasses in front of them, Jimmy noticed an extra Black and Tan and shooter. He looked up at Tom, who pointed at Alex.
Jimmy turned and looked at her, seeing she already had her drinks in front of her. His slightly confused look was met with laughter from the table. She looked from him to the glasses, her eyebrow cocked.
"Cap, she told the waitress to make sure you got 'the usual' when you showed up," Mark said from his seat across from Jimmy.
Randy took up where Mark left off, laughing at Jimmy's confusion as he spoke. "It's tradition, Cap. You can't drink with us unless you have at least one round."
Realization finally downed on Jimmy. He reached into the middle of the table and grabbed both glasses. Setting the Black and Tan down, he moved his Bushmills to the side before setting down the shooter. "Should have known. Alright, what else goes along with this tradition?"
"You have to propose the toast," Alex said from beside him, amusement in her voice.
Jimmy ran a hand over his chin, thinking. With a devious grin, he raised his shot glass, prompting the rest of the table to do the same. "Sliocht sleachta ar shliocht bhur sleachta," Jimmy said before downing his shot and slamming the glass to the table.
As Jimmy was taking a drink of his Black and Tan, Randy asked the question he knew was coming. "So, Cap, what'd we just toast to, anyway?"
Before he could swallow and answer, Alex spoke up from beside him. "It's Gaelic. Roughly translated, it means blessings on your prosperity."
Nodding, Jimmy looked to Alex. "You speak Gaelic?"
Taking a drink, she shook her head. "No." Setting her glass down, she smiled. "Although, I'm surprised you opted for that one over go mbeire muid beo ar an am seo aris, always my dad's favorite. He thought it was a more appropriate sentiment for a cop."
"Maybe, but it didn't really seem to fit the situation." Jimmy raised his glass to Tom. "Congratulations, Tom, you've earned it."
From over the top of his glass, Tom smiled. "Thanks, Cap. Means a lot, what you did for me."
"My pleasure, Tom. Next couple of rounds are on me, ladies." Jimmy set his glass down and shook out a cigarette. As he was reaching for his lighter, a match flared to life beside him. Sticking the tip into the flame and inhaling, he looked over to see Alex setting a book of matches back on the table.
He pulled his head back, turning towards her as he exhaled a plume of smoke. The smile that greeted him extended to her eyes, their warm brown reflecting the low light of the bar. At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged, looking away from him to her drink.
With a quick shake of his head, he looked back at his drink. Shrugging, he raised the glass to his lips, finishing the ale with a long swallow before pushing it aside and taking another drag from his cigarette.
Picking up his Bushmills, he leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the rowdy, jovial banter flying around the table. As he sat, fascinated by the easy way his unit baited and teased each other, he felt like an outsider being given a brief glimpse of something beyond his reach.
Sipping his whiskey and smoking, his eyes mostly closed, he was surprised to feel pressure on his leg. Opening his eyes, he turned in the direction of the contact. He found Alex looking at him again, a soft smile on her lips.
"Need me to move?" He asked, leaning forward to set his drink down.
Shaking her head in the negative, she leaned towards him. "Did you go home and change?" She inquired in a low voice meant only for him.
He looked down, again struck by how much he stood out in his jeans and button-down shirt compared to the suits that surrounded him. With a laugh, he replied, "no. I'm staying in the city tonight. I checked in and changed before coming over here."
Alex took a sip of her drink and nodded. "Planning on doing some drinking then?"
"Better safe than sorry. Wouldn't look good for a captain to get popped for DUI, now would it?" He snuffed out his cigarette and signaled the waitress for another Bushmills.
"No, it wouldn't. Looks good on you." She turned back towards the center of the table, immediately back into the on-going conversation before Jimmy could respond.
As the waitress set a fresh drink in front of him, he noticed that the pressure on his thigh had not abated.
Several hours and several more rounds passed in a haze of gallows' humor and cigarette smoke. Tom, close to passing out, finally called an end to the festivities, declaring that if he didn't leave, he'd be reporting for duty the next morning smelling like a brewery.
As Jimmy settled the tab, the detectives made their way out into the cool April night. While Jimmy signed the receipt, Alex waited for him near the door. Bill paid; Jimmy escorted her out to stand on the sidewalk as everyone sorted out how they were getting home. Soon, everyone had been put into cabs and sent on their way. Leaving only Alex and Jimmy standing outside the bar.
"Jimmy, do you think you could walk me home? It's not far, but I'm not exactly sober." Alex asked as Jimmy took a puff of his cigarette.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he hung his head in thought.
"Look, if you don't want to, that's fine." Alex said quickly.
"No. I'd be happy to walk you home," Jimmy chuckled. "Last thing I need is for one of my detectives to make it into the watch log when I could have prevented it. Lead the way."
Smiling, she turned and started walking, Jimmy jogging a few steps to catch up.
The trek of several blocks was made in comfortable silence, Jimmy keeping a hand near her back as a safety precaution. When they reached her building and he saw that there was no doorman, he accompanied her in. The elevator ride was quick, Jimmy watching as Alex leaned against the back of the car, her eyes closed. As they approached her door, he hung back, uncertain.
The door unlocked and opened, she turned to him. "Thank you. Would you like a drink for the road?"
"Coffee?" He asked, knowing that he needed no more alcohol.
She nodded, smiling. "As long as you don't mind waiting, of course there's coffee."
"Alright. A cup of coffee, then I'm leaving," Jimmy agreed, following her through the door, closing it behind him.
He stood in the entryway as she moved through the dark apartment, turning on lights as she went. He took his jacket off, resting it over his arm, unsure what do to.
"Make yourself at home," drifted her voice from deeper in the apartment. "I'll start the coffee."
He shrugged, walking into the living room, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch before making a slow pass through the room, taking in the décor. He skimmed the titles on her bookcase, grinned at some of her musical choices.
He was standing in front of her bookcase, reading the introduction in a book on juvenile rehabilitation when he heard her clear her throat. Turning, he saw that she had changed, sweatpants and a Giants t-shirt replacing her dark blue pantsuit. In her hands were two coffee mugs, steam rising from them.
With a smile, she walked over to the couch and set the mugs down on the coffee table before sitting down. Closing the book, he returned it to its place before moving to the sofa and sitting down next to her.
"As I was pouring these, it occurred to me that I have no idea how you take your coffee. So I hope black is okay." She said, waving her hand towards the cup in front of him.
Leaning forward, he took the mug in his hand, bringing it to his lips. Taking a tentative sip, he nodded to her before leaning back. "Black's fine."
Picking up her own cup, she took a sip before leaning her head against the couch, her eyes drifting shut.
As silence settled over the room, Jimmy snuck quick glances at her as he drank. Sure that she had passed out, he gently took her cup from her hands and set it on the table. When he leaned back, her head shifted, coming to rest on his shoulder.
He turned his head to look at her. Seeing that a lock of her hair had fallen onto her face, he gently brushed it aside, his fingertips dragging lightly against her cheek. He felt her turn into his touch slightly before opening her eyes to look at him.
Lifting her head slightly, she leaned towards him, her lips glancing over his before she pulled back to look at him. Surprised by her actions, he raised his eyebrows at her, but did not move. When she leaned in a second time, he could not help his response. At the pressure of her lips against his, he pushed back slightly, completing the contact.
Breaking contact, she shifted on the couch, straddling him. He looked up at her, still confused but now unable to deny his body's reaction to her closeness. A grin on her face, she ground down on his lap before leaning in to kiss him again.
Unlike the previous two, this kiss was more frantic, hot and hard. He was overwhelmed by need behind it, unable to resist as her tongue begged entrance to his mouth. For several long moments, they jockeyed for position, her hands on his shoulders, his around her waist.
Breathless, he broke contact, turning his head away from her. "Alex," he rasped, trying to catch his breath, to bring himself back under control. "I don't think this is a good idea."
She leaned against him, pressing her breasts against his chest as her head rested in the hollow of his neck. Her breath hot against his neck, she spoke, "Jimmy, are you attracted to me?"
"Jesus, Alex. You are my friend. I'm your boss." He loosened his grip on her waist.
Pushing against him, she looked in his eyes. "You didn't answer the question."
Dropping his head forward, unable to meet her eyes, he sighed. "Since the first time I saw you. Guess I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it."
He felt her hand against his cheek, soft fingertips rubbing against a day's worth of stubble to his chin. Once there, they pushed up, bringing his eyes to hers. "You've hidden it very well." She leaned forward, placing gentle kisses along his jaw line before reaching his lips. Despite his desire, he resisted, pulling back.
"Look, Alex," he started, softly, "you've been drinking, I've been drinking, neither of us are in our right minds."
"Then none of this really matters, does it?" She said, levering herself off of him and turning towards the kitchen.
At the sight of her walking away, he stood and took several quick steps to catch up. Grabbing her arm, he turned her around to face him. "Damnit, you know it matters," he said once she was looking at him.
She stepped close, almost touching him, and looked up, into his eyes. "Jimmy, please…"
Taking the final step, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her as he lowered his head. His lips met with no resistance as they pressed into hers, as he inhaled her taste, a heady mixture of hops and coffee. Her hands came up to his chest, working the buttons on his shirt.
As the kiss deepened, he pulled her hard against him, stilling her hands. Breaking the contact, he picked her up, holding him against his chest as he made his way towards the back of the apartment.
Stopping outside the bedroom, he looked down at her, a question in his eyes. "You know this will change everything, right?"
Running a hand along his shoulder, she smiled. "We'll deal with that tomorrow."
With a nod, he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him.