He didn't like to linger, to intrude, but he had to see her before he could head back to work. He stood close to her side, eyes raking over her as the paramedic attended to her wounds. He'd wait, silent, sturdy, until her son was in her arms.
She knew better than to think him infallible, but the persistent shake of his hands was a surprising plot-twist. He hadn't said a word, hadn't asked if she was okay or told her she did good, he just stood there keeping watch.
He wanted to drive her home, pour her a merlot and watch her lock the door, but these scumbags needed to be processed and there was court appointed attorneys to argue with before his day was through.
She'd love to say she was surprised, that the tiny version of his form in her peep-hole was unexpected. But there was a tension in her chest that evaporated that would say otherwise. She had turned Tucker out, edging the door shut as he nodded and walked away, but she retched the door wide open for Barba.