It was a pattern neither of them meant to fall into. Professional, intentional distance at the job. His gaze never lingered, touch never found a reason to brush her own. It was like they were nothing to eachother. In truth, that's probably what they were. But twice more they had shown up at each other's door, sweated their way to some type of temporary peace.
They never talked, never held eachother and drifted off to sleep. Never wanted to. They got their fix and walked away.

Lana set her coffee on her desk with a yawn, feeling it straight through her abs, a keen reminder of the workout she had gotten last night.
The office was fairly dark. She was in almost a full hour before shift, but she wanted to get an early start and couldn't take one more minute staring at the ceiling.

The door to Voight's office opened and Lana started, her hand knocking into her coffee. She managed to snag it before it spilled all over her files. That was the last thing she needed.

"Nice save." Voight's voice held humor, and she sent him a sideways look as she moved a few folders out of the way and set her coffee down further away from her.
"Thanks." She hadn't expected him to be in yet.

Clearly he hadn't been expecting her either. He cleared his throat. "You're in early."

"Yeah," Lana answered, gaze focused intently on her desk like it held her absolute attention, "Couldn't sleep."

She hadn't meant to admit that, especially not to him, but she had felt like she needed a reason for showing up so early and that was the first thing she could think of.

He huffed out something that sounded like a chuckle. For one second she wondered how this would go. If their touches actually meant something, if they were something real to eachother and found themselves alone in an empty office. Would he joke that he thought he had tired her out. Would he ask her why she had trouble sleeping?
Would he cross to her desk and kiss her good morning with that same dogged insistence he did everything with?

She shoved the thought away with almost physical force. What the hell was wrong with her? She cleared her throat.
"I was coming in to get some files organized but I can't seem to find some of the ones I need. They were from before my time here but they tied in to last weeks investigation and I wanted to update the information."
"You talking about the O'conner case?"
She nodded, and he seemed to deliberate. "Well," he crossed to Antonio's desk and stole his chair, pulled it in front of Lana's desk and sat down. "What do you wanna know."

They spent the next hour going over the holes in Lana's reports. Part of her wondered how much of this was him just keeping his story straight or reciting actual facts, but either way his mind was like a steel trap. He brought her up to date on everything.

When Erin came in she slowed at the sight of Voight relaxed back in his chair next to Lana's desk, but the sergeant pushed to his feet without a word of explanation and slid Antonio's chair back in place.
"Morning Erin."
He moved back into his office as Erin set her bag on her desk. She sent Lana a questioning glance that the other woman either didn't see or ignored. Erin hummed to herself a little in thought before she got in to starting her day.

Three weeks into her time here, Lana's lunch break was interrupted the sound of none too subtle voices arguing in the back. She looked up as Erin stormed out of Voight's office, cheeks red with anger and eyes flashing in a way that made everyone step back.
Voight was glaring after her, hands fisted in unbelievable frustration and not for the first time, Lana felt her curiosity spike.

This time after work, she accepted Burgess's offer to go out for a drink and headed down to Molly's after shift.
It was a blue bar, off duty officers and firemen seemed to fill every corner and she was pulled through several introductions. Severide was an eye full and she let her gaze linger, catching Burgess's eyeroll.
"Don't waste your time. He's a great guy, just a bit of a ladies man. Unless you're in to that sort of thing," she back pedalled, smile suddenly shy, "I just realized I don't even know what you're in to."
Lana laughed "He's cute, but he's not really my type."

Burgess waved down Hermann for a couple of drinks and started talking about a call they had had that day. Lana filtered the information through her mind, waiting to catch onto something useful, and when the officer mentioned Erin she found her in.
"You know I've been wondering something. What's the deal with Erin and Voight?"

Burgess looked surprised, but shrugged, "Well it hasn't exactly been easy between them," she spoke around her straw as she leaned over her drink.

"What did they break up bad or something?"

Burgess choked. "What? Break Up? No. they, they aren't, weren't, they are not together." She stared at Lana like she had grown a few more heads and Lana shrugged.

"It's obvious they're close, I just assumed..." she trailed off, as Burgess finished sputtering enough to answer.

"Voight is Lindsey's father. Sort of. He took her in when she a teenager. Helped raise her."

Lana sat back, she definitely hadn't been expecting that. She stirred her drink thoughtfully. Voight treated their thing with such casual coldness she had just assumed it was how he was. Taking in a teenager and raising her as his own didn't fit the mental picture she had been shaping of the man. Not that she knew much about him. He drew a straight line to justice that some cops weren't comfortable crossing and he left his personal life somewhere she at least had never seen.
And she had seen plenty of him.

"You said things hadn't been easy between them?" she prompted.

Burgess just blinked at her, "Well ever since they lost Justin they've been handling it in different ways, I guess."

"...Who's Justin?"

There was an uncomfortable amount of shock on Burgess' expression. "I, I thought you knew. You've been here a few weeks now. I figured you would have heard. Justin was Voight's son. His actual son. He was murdered, a couple months back. It was terrible for all of us, but Voight and Lindsey were devastated."

"That's awful," Lana muttered, as if on reflex. She was absorbing the news slowly. Voight had lost a son. That tough, unbreakable exterior had this walled up behind it all along. It made sense then, what he was escaping from. Why he kept coming back. Loss was a hard thing to run away from.

"You really had no idea?" Burgess asked, and Lana gave a self embarrassed shrug.

"I don't really pay attention to office gossip. I guess there's a lot I missed out on."

"Like how I was engaged to Ruzek?"

Lana laughed, "You're kidding." But Lana sobered at Burgess's look, "Oh. Oh you're not kidding. Wow." She stared across the bar at the shelf full of bottles, processing.

"Yeah..." Burgess twisted forward in her seat and stared with her.

"Anything else I should know?" she asked after a minute.

Burgess snorted. "How much time do we have?"

Lana walked home, head spinning. Burgess had shared alot. Snippets and tiddles of people's lives and actual information she had been clueless about. In some ways she wondered if she really should have known. If not knowing made her unable to fully do her job. She was supposed to help protect these people. Knowing about their lives might be part of doing that.
She took the stairs to her apartment, fit the key in the lock and dropped her bag on the table by the door.

Eating ice cream in an over sized tshirt was the only thing on her agenda right now.
She was wiped.
Her tshirt was stained but the worn-in kind of comfortable and she was almost to the kitchen when her phone buzzed. She wanted to ignore it, but she detoured to her bag in the hall and tugged it out of the side pocket.

Voight's number flashed on the screen and she opened the text.
-you up?
She rolled her eyes at the horribly cliche text, before typing out a quick reply.
Yes. why.
Her phone buzzed a moment later.
-i'm outside

She didn't like what her heart did. That sudden twist of panic before it began to beat a half beat too fast. She was by the door already. Two feet from it and she crossed with a small sigh.

Voight was leaning against the door jam, waiting as the door was opened and he took in her tshirt and mussed hair with a sharp kind of smirk. The hot, teasing kind. Not the soft, cute kind and she felt her stomach lurch.
She wasn't prepared for this. To have him here. After learning about his son.

"Can I come in?"

She stepped back, and he followed, pulling her to him before he was even a step inside and she let her lips tangle with his. Felt his need and her heart broke.
She couldn't even imagine, losing a son like that. To murder. Those photos they looked at every day. One of them could have been his son.

She crushed her body against his, let her hands slip through his hair and pull him that much closer, passed her lips in a soft caress against his own. She held him, full and gentle against her in a way she was going to get lost in and he made a startled, frightened sound in the back of his throat that shredded her heart into two.

He broke away from her abruptly, harsh confusion boring out of his eyes and Lana fought the tears that gathered.

"Hank. I just heard about your son, I'm so sorry."

He turned away, hand brushing over his mouth in agitation, before spinning back to face her. Anger, betrayal was in his eyes.
"I didn't come here for that." He jabbed his finger at her like it was an accusation and Lana shook her head, strangely trembling.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just, I didn't know-" he waved a hand at her, cutting her off.

"I'm gonna go." He turned his back against the emotion in her eyes and Lana bit back an oath.

"Wait." She caught his arm and pulled him back hard, "there's no need."
She trailed her fingers down his neck. A promise and an invitation. She would behave.

His anger still hovered in his eye and Lana brought her nails down his chest.

Their gazes met. He knocked her hand away, grabbed her wrist and brought her against him, slid his lips down her neck and felt her gasp. She knocked her bag to the ground as he lifted her onto the table by the door. Mail scattered as his breath quickened.

They never made it any further into the apartment.

He didn't sleep. Spent, exhausted, but his mind betrayed him. It spiraled down into memory of touch. Not the rapid, building moments but that traitorous one before. Soft lips and pressing hands. So caring.
Just begging him to fall apart.

He wouldn't do it. Didn't need it. Didn't want it.

She had made up for it after, eager and almost wild. Like she knew she had messed up.
Just by showing compassion.
What a screwed up situation he had gotten himself in.

She was good at her job. Quick, and smart she had moved into the position seamlessly, held herself together against the worst of cases.
He had read her file, was impressed by her former work in the field. It was a shame an injury had taken her out, she would have made a heck of a detective. There were some questions her file raised. Like why she had transfered so far from home. Or how extensive the injury had actually been. But he had purposefully avoided finding out. Avoided anything that would have seemed like getting too personal. Not with a woman he stripped down with on the regular.

He couldn't keep doing this. He didn't hold to inter office relationships. And he knew full well this wasn't a relationship. But he decided then and there was cutting himself off.
He'd leave his door open if she wanted it but he wouldn't be showing up at hers.

He had gotten along just fine before she ever stepped foot into his life and he would get along just fine without it.