Okay, I am trying to stick to my method and switch POV every other chapter. Let's see how it goes. Feel free to comment if it doesn't. Any feedback is welcomed.
Molly is about to curl up on her sofa with tea to recharge her batteries after an exhausting and draining day. The women she met today will need a lot of support and help in the coming weeks, but that is work and, strangely, not the most emotionally challenging thing she'd faced in the past week. She warms her hand on the mug and breathes in the smell of freshly made tea. The scent sends her back to that night last week, and the image from today immediately flashes into her mind.
Seeing them this close to each other, Molly can't help but sadly glance at the empty armchair Jim had sat in that fateful evening. As hard as the memories weigh on her, she is convinced she did the right thing.
She is pulled out of her stupor by the doorbell ringing. Molly glances at the time and frowns. It's a little late for deliveries or social calls, so her mind immediately goes to her work and the case. Molly pulls her cardigan tighter and pads to the door. She presses the intercom and asks, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Jim. Can I come up?"
Molly's heart skips a beat, and she freezes a little bit. She tries to figure out if this might be case-related or why he would just drop by. Could this be personal? In all her stupor, she must've still pressed the buzzer because the elevator outside dings, announcing an arrival at her floor. Molly presses the handle of her front door and leaves the door slightly ajar before walking into her kitchen and refreshing her tea with hot water. The door swings open to reveal Jim in civilian clothes, looking not 100% like the self-assured cop she met. He seems pretty uncertain to her eyes, and yes, even his voice is soft, betraying an air of something Molly can quite put her finger on. "Can I come in?"
"Yes, what's going on? Something with the case I need to know?"
"No, I came to talk."
"Okay," Molly replies slowly and, with her free hand, pulls her cardigan a little closer again, "Take a seat. Do you want anything?"
"No, please. Can we just. I need to get this out and," he gulps down a lump and stares Molly in the eyes. She almost instantly sits down, but she is nervous.
"This past week wasn't easy for me. I am still not sure I fully understand why you said I should take time, but I need you to know I didn't want you to leave. I needed you. I wanted you by my side."
Jim's eyes are blazing and keeping her fixated.
"And yet you didn't stop me or come to talk to me earlier," Molly states dryly. She feels terrible for pointing it out.
"Would I have had a chance at stopping you?" Jim tilts his head questioningly but with a knowing smile on his face.
"Probably not," she nods, conceding his point, "And I still think it was the right decision. I needed some time to think, too."
Molly surprises herself with that. She'd never admitted that to herself before, always trying to project the self-assured image to the outside world.
"I am sorry I made you doubt me, but I just needed to be honest. And you said I am allowed my past. I mean, everyone has that, right?"
Before Molly can answer, her phone starts ringing. She glances at the display and immediately presses the green button on the screen.
"Agent Cortez, what can I do for you?"
Molly can see from the corner of her eye that Jim sits up straighter and seems to strain his ears to hear, but she knows she should listen to Jessica Cortez.
"I understand. I can be there in," Molly glances at the clock on the wall, "30 minutes, maybe."
"I'd like to send you an LAPD escort," Cortez replies, and Molly involuntarily glances in Jim's direction.
"That won't be necessary. I am already in LAPD company," Molly replies, and can see the shock on his face. Almost instantly, Jim states, "I don't have my gun!" and Cortez must've heard.
"Stay put. I'll make sure you're getting that escort. Don't open the door unless you see a shield."
Molly swallows dutifully. She hates this feeling of being unable to make decisions for herself.
"What's going on?" Jim asks softly.
"I don't know all the details, but Agent Cortez needs me at the safe housing facility apparently right away. She's sending an escort."
"I'll stay until that arrives, and can we then find another time to talk? I mean, really talk?" Jim asks with an almost desperate undertone to his voice.
"Yeah, but I should get dressed and get my things right now."
Jim steps away and lets her pass. In the quiet comfort of her room, Molly takes a few deep breaths. She still owes Jim an answer, and she so desperately wants to tell him that his admission of a past thing, even if it was just a kiss, didn't do anything to her, but there is that image from the warehouse today… Molly shakes her head. She is annoyed at herself for even feeling this insecurity.
Chris encouraged her to ask Jim out. Why would she do that if there was something between them?
Molly gets startled out of her thoughts by the doorbell. She checks her appearance in the mirror and deems herself presentable.
"They are on their way up," Jim calls from outside the bedroom door.
After one last deep breath, Molly leaves the room and faces him in the corridor.
"Listen before they are here," she starts carefully, "I want to answer the question you asked before Cortez called. I meant what I said: everyone is allowed their past. And I try to stand by that and not hold that against you. It just is easier said than done if she isn't in your past. And I know this is petty, and we should talk about it more, but now is not the time."
Molly hastily ends her sentence when a knock on her front door announces the arrival of her escort.
Jim springs into action and holds up his hand for her to stay back. "Can I see your shields?" he demands, glancing through the peephole. He seems satisfied by what he sees and opens the door.
"Miss Hicks, we're Officers Malloy and Donaghue. We're here to bring you to Agent Cortez."
Molly feels a little awkward locking up her apartment and riding down the elevator with Jim and the two officers in silence.
"I guess that's my doing, though," she tells herself. Outside the building, the two officers step away to their car, allowing her to speak to Jim alone for a moment more.
"Thank you for making sure I am safe. I'll text you tomorrow, and we can find a time to talk, okay?" she offers what feels like an olive branch.
She doesn't actually know how to act right now, but Jim takes matters into his hands and leans in to drop a quick peck onto her cheek. "Be safe," he whispers in her ear, sending shivers down her spine and goosebumps up her arms before stepping back to let her climb into the waiting cruiser.