#ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Lost in Translation

Part one

Summary: All Adam ever seems to hear is Kim talking about Roman. In Molly’s, in the locker room, when he’s just walking through the district. All he ever hears is Kim making comments about Roman, about their relationship, about all the domestic elements of their life.

And it's killing him.

Or; Obliviousness, a game of telephone and a healthy dose of gossip leads to miscommunication... Miscommunication that just may lead Adam and Kim back together.

Set in S3, post break-up AU.

Word Count: 3k words

Read on AO3

Notes: This fic very much spawned from a cracky idea, so while it may seem angsty (and it is), it is primarily a fic that is rooted in humour. It is also a two part fic, this is part one, as it works better that way. It is also my first (posted) burzek multi-chapter, technically.

I first created this idea back in 2021, so I'm very happy I've finally written it and I hope y'all enjoy! 💖

Adam knew something was up with Kim and Roman.

That something was different, a difference that occurred after his engagement to Kim imploded and Adam isn’t stupid enough to not know that the difference most likely was because of said implosion. He may have been stupid enough to not realise Kim was slipping from his fingertips, that the fighting they had been doing wasn't only a rut, but he’s still a good cop and a good cop notices things.

His mind hadn’t wanted to go there; it rebelled at the very notion. But his eyes kept betraying him, pointing out all the ways they seemed to be closer, all the ways Roman was intruding in Kim’s personal space, and all the ways Kim didn’t seem to mind.

He chose not to dwell on it, or rather he tried, hard, not to—and was mostly successful, except for the dead of night when his bed felt so, so empty without her warmth snuggled beside him and there was no case or alcohol to distract him and occupy his mind with thoughts of literally anything else.

But he knew. He knew.

So when Adam heard that Roman suddenly went on furlough, and that he wouldn’t be coming back, that he had transferred, again, to yet another district, he had been immediately curious. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to ask Kim about it himself, but he could linger around corners and the locker room, acting like he was absorbed in something else, all while he listened to others asking.

All Kim said to anyone—even Kev—was that Roman needed a change of scenery, and she always said it so clipped, so final, making it clear she wasn’t engaging in any gossip. It’s something that would usually leave Adam feel a swell of pride for his girl, being so polite and tactful, but she’s not his girl, and it only made him feel mildly frustrated as he wanted to know why Roman left.

Naturally, Platt was no help either.

With no answers, Adam had made his own. He had decided that whatever was the thing happening between them, whatever that difference was, it had ended, been disconnected. And that was satisfactory enough for Adam—and a little bit of an ego booster, if he was honest.

But then it happened.

Adam was minding his own business in the locker room—for real, this time—getting changed before he headed to Molly’s when he overheard Kim talking to one of the other officers. It’s his fault, really. His ears are still trained to immediately zone in and listen whenever he hears her beautiful voice, even months after she broke his heart.

From context, Adam quickly got that the officer asked if Kim was joining them in Molly’s. Usually, he’d be crushed at her not going, always liking to catch a glimpse of her there even as she steadfastly ignored him. But this time, that’s not what crushed him.

“I can’t,” Kim said. “I have to get home. I’ve got a date planned for cuddles on the couch; Roman is still adjusting to the move,”

Adam’s heart had stopped.

He’s a good cop, but even an idiot could guess what had recently transpired in Kim’s life hearing that. Roman—he was living with Kim.

And Kim was having dates with him.

That’s when Adam realised he had gotten it all wrong; Roman hadn’t transferred because things between them had fizzled—but because he was dating Kim, because he was living with Kim.

Adam didn’t go to Molly’s that night. He still drank, but it was very much drinking to be alone, in the darkness, not amongst his colleagues.

Any hope that Adam had about him misunderstanding what he overheard evaporated only a few nights after. He was in Molly’s, and at some point Kim had turned up to, and when he was grabbing a beer, his ears betrayed him again and he tuned into her saying that “she had to leave,” that “she had a date with her boyfriends, Roman, Ben and Jerry,”

Despite having learnt already that Kim was living with Roman—living with him, when they never even got to live in a place that was theirs together—Adam hadn’t been prepared to hear the first time Kim referred to another man as her boyfriend.

Adam had an early night, too, that night. But his was a lot more miserable than hers was.

Kim had moved on. There was officially no hope for them.

After this, all Adam ever seems to hear is Kim talking about Roman. In Molly’s, in the locker room, when he’s just walking through the district. All he ever hears is Kim making comments about Roman, about their relationship, about all the domestic elements of their life.

And it's killing him.

He’s handing Platt some paperwork about his expenses when he overhears Kim talking with other officers about grabbing lunch. Someone suggests sushi, and Kim immediately groans.

“Ugh, no, pass, please. All I’ve been cooking recently is fish for Roman, and I’m officially sick of the sight of any seafood. Especially with how Roman eats it, I think he’s put me off fish for a lifetime.”

And he’s in the locker room, in the morning, getting ready for work when he hears Kim come in, chatting away with another officer—her replacement for Roman, he thinks, not that he’s been able to ask. Not when she’s avoiding him like he’s got the plague and not when he doesn’t know if he could get through a conversation with her without his heart literally breaking in two.

“And oh my god, the bathroom! I swear I’m having to clean it so much which I know I signed up for but he makes such a mess in there. And he always seem to want to pee right as I’m showering—no matter the time. It’s not even just that, it’s so much hair. You wouldn’t think that Roman would shed that much hair,” Kim sounds so frustrated, and Adam hates how much that hurts him, even though she’s venting about her new boyfriend.

“Typical man,” the other officer says, and the two of them burst out laughing, hard, for a reason that Adam doesn’t quite get. And it’s just another reminder that Kim has jokes now that he’ll never know, that it’s Roman’s privilege now to have that view into Kim’s world.

All these little moments that Adam overhears, they all hurt him. Deep, in an aching kind of way that he never thought he’d feel, a way he never knew was possible, a way that he never experienced when his previous engagements ended.

But the one that hurt him the most was another conversation he overheard in Molly’s. Kim is already in the bar when Adam gets there and if he hadn’t walked in with the rest of the unit, he might’ve been tempted to walk right back out. But he had, so he stayed, instead telling himself that he’ll stay way clear of her—he needs to give his liver a rest, after all.

His one consolation is Kevin, who shoots him an understanding look, clocking Kim as well. Things had been distant between those two, as well; Kevin had felt a bit upset at hearing about Kim and Roman through the district grapevine, and from what Kev had told him, which granted isn’t much, Kim had all but dismissed these feelings when he asked her about it.

If Adam’s honest, it doesn’t sound like something Kim would do, but then he didn’t think dating Roman would be something Kim would do, so what does he know? And he knows Kevin well enough to know his hurt is real.

It probably would’ve been fine, had Adam not needed to go take a piss. He was actually enjoying himself with his unit, so much that for a moment he got wrapped up in the fun he temporarily forgot that Kim is also in the bar. And that in order to get to the toilets, he had to go past where Kim sat.

“Partners... The wrong one can be so detrimental to everything, both personally and professionally.” It is busy in Molly’s, and so Adam was moving carefully, winding through the crowd and is unable to speed up to put as much distance between them as soon as he hears Kim’s voice and he remembers.

“Like my ex partner, he was just so wrong for me. His attitudes, the way he spoke to and about me and how he acted about my role, like I was beneath him? His opinions and wants was the most important and that was that. A partner to be good needs to support you, and help you accomplish what you need to, not dismiss your own dreams, especially your professional ones. But my partner now? Completely perfect for me, and that makes all the difference.”

There are times Adam wishes there is an off switch to his ears, and this is the only time he would be truly glad if that was the case. He couldn’t help listening to Kim speak, despite the noisiness of the bar, despite the obvious signs at the start of the sentence that it could be potentially devastating for him.

He had thought the moment when Kim handed him back her ring would be the most devastating moment of his life.

How very stupid of him indeed.

Adam knew, obviously, that Kim was unhappy with their relationship. She wouldn’t have ended it otherwise. And he knew that he wasn’t always the best—missing the dinner with her mom was a fine example of how he could fuck up. But he hadn’t quite realised that she felt like that, that she thought he was like that.

And suddenly all Adam could do was doubt himself, thinking back on things and wondering is that really how he acted? Is he really such a fuck up that he made Kim feel like he didn’t value her, respect her? That he dismissed her dreams and didn’t support her?

Adam feels sick, and he knows that he’ll be leaving the bar, now, even though just five minutes ago he thought he’d be here at least half an hour longer. That he’ll say goodbye to the team and head home—just as soon as he convinces himself to go back out to the bar, to leave the toilets. It’s a challenge to get his feet moving, standing immobile, unable to bear the thought of walking past Kim again.

He manages to, mostly spurred on by another man entering the toilets and Adam became so aware at how weird he would seem if he just remained frozen on one spot there. He hoped that maybe he wouldn’t hear anymore as he passed by again, but isn’t that lucky.

Even more unluckily, it seems that Kim is once again getting ready to leave the bar and Adam realises that if he just stayed in the toilets for one more minute, he would’ve been free of his hell. But he chose to leave, then, and as a result he gets to hear Kim say another thing that devastates him to his core.

“I’ll see you around. Good luck with everything,” Kim is saying as he draws near. “Now, I’ve got to get back to the love of my life,”

It is really credit to himself, and his dignity—what’s left of it, anyway—that Adam doesn’t fall to the ground right then and there, Kim’s words faltering him in his steps.

It’s not even the words. Well, not only the words.

But it’s how she says it. There’s a hint of humour to her voice, but there’s a certainty. That it’s like she’s just saying any old fact, that it is just the truth, and she’s just stating something so big like it’s something casual—because, in her life, as far as she’s concerned, it is.

The words haunt Adam for the rest of the night, going round and round in his head. He remembers all the times she said those words to him; whispered to him in their dead of night talks, casually said it over breakfast, or at a dinner with Kev. Remembered the time she stared at her ring for the one of the first times, and told him that, told him that she was so happy—happy because the love of her life wanted her just as much she wanted him.

How could it be that only six months after they broke up, that she had moved on so fast? That she had discovered that Adam was just a footnote in her life, and not one who’d have her heart forever?

But, of course, Adam knew how. He heard how from Kim’s mouth that same night; heard how she saw their relationship, saw him, and even though it confuses Adam, because surely, surely he wasn’t that bad, that doesn’t really matter. That’s how she felt during their relationship, and that’s exactly why she left him, exactly why Adam’s not the love of her life anymore, and why Roman is.

Adam had already been trying to stay clear of Kim’s path, out of respect for her wishes as well as preservation for his own heart, but after that night in Molly’s, he really starts avoiding her. If anyone notices, they choose not to comment on it, something which Adam deeply appreciates.

He doesn’t even wonder if Kim notices, knowing that she’s moved on, that he’s probably the person she least wants to think about and knowing that if she does, she’s probably glad—happily living her life with Roman, and glad there’s no lingering ex-fiancé hanging around her.

His avoidance amps up two months later when they hear word of a cop being shot in another district—and that the cop is Roman. There’s nothing Adam wants even less then seeing a distraught looking Kim, knowing that it will be because of her new partner, her new boyfriend, knowing that she’d be hurting over a man who gets to love her in the way he so, so wishes he still was allowed to.

Adam thinks the sight of it might actually be what kills him.

This includes not going to Molly’s, not wanting to run into her, not wanting to have to say his sympathies—or having to be the kind of man who can’t get past his own feelings to even choke out the words—and rather, not wanting to go and not see her and knowing it’s because she’s at his bedside.

And nothing makes cops group together like the one, big family they are like an officer getting injured and Adam heard words of everyone going to Molly’s because of the shooting and he knew he isn’t strong enough for that.

So Adam doesn’t go to Molly’s, and when he has some days off a week or so after the shooting, Adam stays in his apartment the entire time, even if before he would’ve spent the time catching up with people he hadn’t seen in a while.

No, for now, all the friends Adam needs is alcohol and takeout.

He’s half way through the Chinese he had ordered when there’s a knock on his apartment door. It confuses him for a second, looking down at his food, food that had already arrived and so didn’t need delivering but he shrugs it off and goes to the door anyway.

Kim repeatedly got on his case about his surprising lack of awareness depending he’s a cop, that he never questions why his door knocks, and about how he never ‘practiced safety’ by opening the door without checking the peep hole and this comes to his mind, now. Just like it had ever since she left him, his ears missing her voice repeating the same words she always did despite him never listening, and he had gotten into the habit of checking.

(There’s a part of him that wonders, if he did that more when they were still together, maybe she’d still be his).

But Adam’s feeling particularly irritable today, at the whole situation, at the aching emptiness in his heart that still remains despite the fact it’s been months, despite the fact that they’ve been split for as long as their engagement was now, despite the fact that Kim hasn’t given him a second fucking thought, despite the fact that she’s with another man.

So why the hell should he still be listening to her voice in his head?

Adam opens the door, pushing that voice into a box in his head. Because of it, he thinks he must’ve opened the door a little too forcefully, as Kim looks startled as he does so.

Wait, he thinks. Kim?

For the first time in months, Kim is standing at his door. It’s what he’s been dreaming of ever since she walked out on him, and he had came back to his apartment and every bit of her was scrubbed from it. Even just a few weeks ago, had she turned up, for whatever reason, Adam would’ve been immediately softened at her appearance.

Not today. Today, Adam feels irritable.

“What do you want?” He snaps at her. He doesn’t mean for it to come out just so harsh standing but it’s been months of no contact and now she’s standing here for god knows what reason and all Adam wants to do is finish his dinner.

Kim looks a little taken back by his tone, which should’ve annoyed him more, especially considering it’s reasonable to assume he wouldn’t exactly be all sunshine and roses at her presence, especially since he’s in a mood, but it makes him feel guilty, bad that he’s caused that reaction in her.

This woman is going to be the death of him, he thinks.

Still, Kim isn’t deterred by his tone because of course she isn’t, because she’s Kim, and Kim is a strong and determined woman who never backs down from what she wants to do.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She says, and Adam almost wants to laugh. What possible misunderstanding could there have been—what, did she not actually break up with him, didn’t actually break his heart?

“Meet Roman,” At that, Kim holds up something and Adam realises this whole time there’s been something in her arms, and a pet cage at her feet that he didn’t see. (Yeah, he’s a great cop).

“My cat.” She finishes.

Oh.

Oh.

#ree.writes #burzek #chicago pd #adam ruzek #kim burgess #chicago pd fanfiction #burzek fic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #cíara tag #<- bc this fic never would've taken a coherent form without them #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Lost in Translation

Part two

Summary: All Adam ever seems to hear is Kim talking about Roman. In Molly’s, in the locker room, when he’s just walking through the district. All he ever hears is Kim making comments about Roman, about their relationship, about all the domestic elements of their life.

And it's killing him.

Or; Obliviousness, a game of telephone and a healthy dose of gossip leads to miscommunication... Miscommunication that just may lead Adam and Kim back together.

Set in S3, post break-up AU.

Word Count: 5.8k

Read on AO3

Notes: Part two is here!! If you haven't read part one, you can find it through my AO3 or on my blog, and I do very much recommend reading part one first.

This fic was only meant to be a two part fic, but due to the length of this one, I've had to split it into two so it's now going to be a three part fic so oops sorry about that.

Enjoy!!

It is on a night out at Molly’s that caused it.

Kim hadn’t really wanted to go out with Sylvie that night, but the blonde was insistent. She wasn’t on shift at 51, and had been waiting outside of Kim’s new apartment when she got home. Kim had been sort of dragging her feet about arranging a day for a night out, not only because she struggled with the desire to actually go out, despite how much she forced herself to, but because Sylvie and her really started bonding right after Kim had gotten engaged.

It hadn’t been because of the engagement, but that just happened to be the point in time their friendship had blossomed. As a result, Kim couldn’t help associating nights out with her, and by extension, Sylvie herself, with being engaged. With coming home tipsy to Adam, to talking about wedding stuff at the nights out, to all those little moments that occurred when Kim was engaged Kim, moments that will never be replicated now she’s back to being single Kim—or worse, now she’s become recently un-engaged Kim.

And if Kim was going to drag herself from the comfort of her bed and crappy microwave dinners, she preferred if it could actually distract her from her failed engagement.

It wasn’t fair to Sylvie, Kim knew this. Especially when Sylvie is her only friend who gets it, her only friend who had been engaged herself, who also had a failed engagement. The situations aren’t identical, of course, really the only thing the two engagements had in common was that they were an engagement, but it still was helpful to know there’s someone who gets it, gets it in a way her other friends can’t.

So when Kim came home and saw her sweet, considerate friend waiting for her, she had no choice but to agree.

And, Kim had reminded herself, the only way she can hope to survive this is with help from her friends.

Sylvie had suggested they keep it low-key, just her and Kim, in Molly’s with a beer. It hadn’t exactly screamed a recipe for success but she had found herself agreeing nonetheless. And Kim was proven wrong; Sylvie had grabbed them a booth near the back, and intelligence had been wrapped up in a case so she didn’t have to see anyone from work, which had been a blessing.

There had been some officers hanging around, of course, and a couple of them looked eagerly at her and Kim had just known that they’d be approaching her to try and get the gossip on why Sean was transferring.

But Sylvie had also clocked them, and she excused herself to talk to Herrmann and Kim still has no idea what she said to him, but none of the officers bothered them that night.

“It’s just typical Sean,” it wasn’t long before Kim was bitching about her ex-partner. “Transferring in such a way and leaving me to have to deal with the fallout. He couldn’t even give me that one decent consideration.”

“He’s an asshole, Kim, of course he wasn’t going to.” Sylvie’s words aren’t said condescendingly, even if they could be seen that way.

“Like so the man tries to kiss me only weeks after I broke up with my fiancé, who we both work with, then tries to tell me that I was giving him ‘signs’, and then that he loves me and he knows I love him—which what the fuck, I just broke up with Adam, and he knows I’m still very much in love with him—and then when I rebuff all this he just... Transfers. And does it so fucking coyly that it means of course, people are curious. Which only leaves me in this position of being noncommittal and only fuelling the gossip, or telling the truth which, let’s be honest, is only going to make people think that there was something there—and god forbid it looks bad on him, no, it’ll only reflect badly on me and no one will ever want to be my partner.” Sylvie had been right, going out had done her good, giving her chance to vent.

“And what gets me is that he was able to just transfer. Bam, just like that. And he’ll go and settle in to his new place, and he’ll get barely if any scrutiny over it and even if he’s truthful about everything—which not fucking likely—he won’t get respected any less. Me, on the other hand.” Kim paused, to take a sip of her drink.

“You know, I was going to transfer. Yeah, yeah, I know. Not great, and luckily Platt and Lindsay talked me out of it. But one of the reasons I didn’t? Because it would follow me around. But Sean’s second transfer in just as many years? Nothing.” Kim couldn’t help scoffing, she was just about done with the hypocrisy of the police force, of the hypocrisy of her fellow officers.

Sylvie, to her credit, listened patiently, sympathising with her and asking her questions about how she’s doing and genuinely caring about her response—everything Sean should’ve done, everything a decent human would do.

It was one of Sylvie’s questions that lead to this, the blonde asking her about how she’s doing, personally, beyond the Sean stuff.

“Honestly? Pretty fucking lonely,” Kim had drunk all of her beer by that point and it was either that, or just because she was on ranting roll, that made her be more openly truthful about things.

“I’m hurting, like all the time, and work is now this... Huge dread for me. And when I go home, I’m coming home to an empty apartment. A few weeks ago, I had a fiancé and a future and now everything just feels so empty and lonely. I have no one to share my life with; my sister has her own life, and my mother just keeps telling me I told you so and saying I should quit being a cop and it’s just a lot. Probably doesn’t help my new apartment is one I first saw the listing for when I was looking for a place for Adam and I,” Kim couldn’t help but scoff at herself.

“It’s all a bit pathetic, isn’t it? Because it’s because of me that I’m lonely, like what did I think I’d feel?” She was feeling really self-deprecating about herself.

“Kim, no,” Sylvie had shook her head at that. “It is not pathetic. Ending a relationship, especially an engagement, it’s a big deal and a big change. And it does mean you find yourself feeling a bit lost as you readjust. At least you haven’t moved to a new city?”

Kim scoffed again. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Kim,” Sylvie said softly, but scoldingly. “Look, my point is just that your feelings are natural. And yeah, you ended it, but that doesn’t make you pathetic for missing it, because it was still a part of your life. You just need to remind yourself that the cons began outweighing the pros—you ended it to prioritise yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The doubt Kim felt evidently showed on her face as Sylvie continued.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. You’re not over Adam, and jumping into a new relationship is never a good idea, so we can’t end your loneliness with getting back out there. We can try and arrange more girls nights—even get Lindsay in for it, and maybe even Sarah from med—but our lives are pretty busy so that might not be the most effective... Can you go visit family you haven’t seen in a while—your father? You’ve never told me about him, but is he an option? Sometimes going somewhere and clearing your head can do a world of good.”

Kim frowned, making it very clear that wasn’t an option.

“Okay, so that’s a no. Hm,” Sylvie looked thoughtful. She was silent for a long moment, before suddenly her face lit up, and she leaned forward very excitedly.

“You could get a dog! A cute, fluffy companion! No need to worry about scheduling nights out to get company, and someone to greet you when you come home. Plus I saw one of your neighbours had a dog while I was waiting for you, so your new place is pet friendly. It’s perfect.”

Sylvie looked so happy, so pleased with herself that Kim felt guilty for the way she would have to crush her.

“Sylvie,” her friend’s face immediately faltered at Kim’s soft sigh. “I work all the time. And because of the move and the calling off the engagement, I don’t really have a lot of savings so I don’t know if I’d be able to afford a dog walker and I just... I don’t think I’m in a place right now where I could adequately look after a dog, do all the walking and making sure it was happy. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Right, yeah.” Sylvie nodded understandingly. Kim thought she had ruined the night, but then Sylvie’s eyes were sparkling again.

“What about a cat? We just responded to this cat sanctuary place last shift—one of their workers got woozy—and oh it is just so precious. The cats were all so cute, and they’re rescues and the owner was saying how they need more people to adopt them. All we’d need to do is get toys and set up a nice play area in your apartment to make sure they’re happy while you’re at work and oh you could get an automatic cat feeder and it’s perfect. And the owner said so many of them just wants love and cuddles and just a home.”

Kim frowned slightly. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a cat before.”

“Come and visit with me this weekend. Meet the little kitties, see for yourself. Come on, Kim. They need love, you need love... It’s a match made in heaven.” Sylvie had continued, looking so earnest at her.

And that’s how Kim found herself, on her day off, standing in a cat sanctuary, about to adopt a furry new friend.

The workers at the sanctuary had immediately greeted Sylvie with big smiles and sing-song hellos. The paramedic clearly had left a lasting impression on them, which, honestly, Kim got. Sylvie just has that effect on people.

“This is Kim,” Sylvie had introduced her, and then before she could even react, Sylvie was filling them in on everything, of exactly why they were there. Kim found herself feeling immediately annoyed at the blonde; she’s not exactly in a great place in her life and she isn’t exactly thrilled at it being broadcasted.

But the workers had been considerate, nice. They asked Kim questions about herself, about her home, about her wants and capabilities and advised her on everything she’d need to get and what she should expect, understating it all with that she had to actually want this, want the responsibility of another living being beyond just her own sadness.

Then they had told them to look around, standing back as they did so, giving them space while not being too far away.

Honestly, Kim was convinced she was just doing this to humour Sylvie. But somewhere along the line, between them getting there and the workers talking to them, and walking among the fluffy balls of cuteness, Kim found herself warming more and more up to the idea.

And then she saw him. A beautiful mix of white, brown and ginger, long-haired, especially around his neck and upper back, the only part of him, really, that was the ginger bit. He had sharp eyes, and when they met with her own, he flopped down looking adorably playful and Kim hadn’t ever really spent much time around cats but she couldn’t help but think that was his way of greeting her.

She never put much credence in love at first sight, especially after the closest thing she had to it imploded, but looking at that cat for the very first time, Kim immediately fell in love.

And she’d like to think he did too, that he didn’t just react like that to any old person, that he immediately saw her as his human.

The worker who was with them—Greta, her name tag said—clocked on instantly to the connection, and when Kim cooed at him, she jumped straight into action.

“That’s Roman. His previous owner was a history professor, and thought his fluff reminded them of Roman helmets. I don’t personally see it, but he’s a funny little dude and it suits him. Him being long-haired does seem to be putting a lot of people off, unfortunately, though but he’s just so precious.” Great informed her.

Kim faltered.

“Roman?” She repeated, unable to stop the frown that appeared on her face. Her eyes found Sylvie.

“We know someone called that—well his surname. And he’s an asshole,” Sylvie explains to Greta. “Come on, Kim, there’s other cats.”

Kim looked away from Sylvie then, and back at the cat—at Roman. There was a conflict in her; there was the association to the partner from hell that she’d very much like to forget, and Sylvie was right, there were other cats but...but Kim knew that her heart wanted this cat, that for whatever reason there was a kinship with this cat and that something as silly as a name wasn’t going to put her off.

Not when in the first time in ages, Kim felt like she might actually survive this.

“No, tell me more about him. It’s alright; I called him Sean a lot anyway. And this Roman is so much more of a nicer association for the name.” Kim said, and that was that. Roman the cat was hers.

Of course it wasn’t that simple. There was paperwork to sort out, a vetting the sanctuary had to do, and then Kim had to go and buy things for him—something she may have gone a little overboard on—and so much other things but he was hers.

And finally, her life had a little more light in it.

Kim and Roman settle into a routine before long.

Roman takes a little while to fully adjust to his new home with her, but after the first couple of days, even when he still hadn’t fully settled in yet, Kim would be immediately greeted by a little meow and a cat winding between her feet as soon as she got home.

More than anything probably because she’s the food provider, but he lets her give him a little fuss behind the ears when she walks through the door and after they have their respective dinners, they cuddle on the couch.

She had brought him a rather nice cat bed, and he does use it, uses the three different ones that somehow just keeps appearing in her home, along with more toys every time Kim goes shopping, but at night, he curls up beside her on her bed.

And Kim begins looking forward to coming home again. And for that, she is so glad that she took Sylvie upon her offer that day—even when it’s 3am and Roman is waking her up from much needed sleep for the third time that week for, as far as Kim can tell, no particularly reason.

She doesn’t exactly go broadcasting the fact she’s got a cat now, obviously, because it’s not really ground breaking news. But she does mention it to some people, just casually, and Kim expected that to be that.

It’s not, exactly. The district is a gossipy place, and it really can be unpredictable what is decided to be the new hottest piece of gossip, and Kim’s definitely been the source of that gossip a few times, but she didn’t really expect the fact she’s gotten a new cat to be that juicy that it spreads to everyone.

It even spreads up to intelligence, as Kevin asks her about it one day.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, sounding uncharacteristically hurt. It spreads around in the first few weeks of getting him, Kim still making sure he was adjusting, so she hadn’t had much time to talk to her best friend and so no time to catch him up with her life, especially when she’s been giving Adam space, and she knew that he’d need to lean on Kev and she never wants to make him feel like he has to chose sides.

It’s still never great hearing something new about your friend from district chatter, so she got his hurt to a certain degree, but it had taken her back a little bit.

“I didn’t think it was necessary—you would’ve found out eventually,” Kim answered him, confused. Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn’t exactly the best phrasing. Kevin—all the Atwaters—are an important part of her life and she realised that maybe with her break up with Adam he was wondering if she was ditching him too. To reassure him nothing had changed between them, she added;

“But now I’ve got you—do you want to come over soon? With Jordan and Vinessa, introduce them to him?”

Kevin’s expression is unreadable. “You want to my siblings to meet him?”

Between his expression and his tone, Kim just gets confused more. “Yeah? They’ll really love him. And I thought since he’s my family, and you’re—and they’re—my family that you’d—”

“That I’d want my siblings to meet him? Be a happy family?” Kevin interrupts her. “Look, Kim, I’m happy you’re happy. I am, you know I love you. But I’m just... Adam’s not doing well, at all, and I just think I need a bit of time before... that.”

If Kim hadn’t already been grateful for having Roman in her life, she would be then. There’s one thing putting some space between them for Adam’s sake, and maybe it’s because Kim feared Kevin wouldn’t understand, that if they gave him the option to choose a side, he wouldn’t choose her, not when Adam’s his brother, but Kim still—probably naïvely—thought that Kevin wouldn’t, that he wouldn’t choose a side.

And she suddenly didn’t expect him to choose a side without her asking him too.

“That’s fine.” Kim tried to smile and not let her own hurt show. “I have Roman, now, so yeah. Take time, whatever.”

It’s that day that when she got home, Roman first saw her cry. She hadn’t cried since getting him, but Kevin was the first person she ever truly felt was her family, someone in her peer bracket and loved her, and it hurt her deep that he didn’t choose her.

She didn’t want him to not choose Adam, Kim still loves Adam, and knows that Adam needs support and Kevin is both of their best friend, but she hoped that Kevin would still recognise she needed support—that Kevin is still her brother, that whatever happens between her and Adam, their respective relationships with him exists outside of that.

Instead Kim just wonders if this is confirmation of all her insecurities, her worries that saw how her boys bonded and the insecure girl inside of her worrying that Adam preferred working with Kev over her and that Kevin preferred Adam as a friend.

Roman is concerned for Kim, first pawing at her and when that didn’t work, he played with the toy that always makes Kim stop what she’s doing to coo at him and when that even didn’t work, he just curled up beside her.

“It’s just me and you,” Kim murmured at him, softly stroking his fur, comforted by the warm softness of it. “Just me and you.”

Life does get more bearable after that day.

It takes a while for her not to get that aching hurt in her chest, about Kevin choosing Adam over her, but she adapts. Just like she adapts to no longer being engaged, to her heart not hurting so much over that as well.

Kim quickly learns that she still loves Adam, that she’ll still miss him. That they’ll be days where she wishes for his smile, or his advice or nights where she’ll wake up from a bad dream and instinctively reach for him, wanting him to encase her in his arms, in a hug that smells like him and feels like love and safety.

And she quickly learns that unlike her previous relationships, she’s not going to fall out of love with him any time soon, that a part of her may very well always love him and that it’ll probably be a while before she’ll ever be able to think about dating again, let alone dating seriously.

But she learns that it gets easier to live with. She grieves their relationship, the relationship it was as well as what she wanted it to be, and through that she stops bargaining with herself, stops telling herself to lower her wants just for those times she misses him, that it had to be done.

And she stops wishing for all the ways the past should’ve gone and started just focusing on the future.

At work, Kim gets a new partner—Julie Tay—and they immediately get along like a house on fire. Kim never thought she’d find another partner as perfect as Kevin—Atwater, Adam is Ruzek, Kevin is Atwater, she’s taken up to telling herself—but Tay is pretty perfect herself. Exactly the kind of person Kim needs for where she is now, and that also helps take away the sting of Kevin choosing Adam.

Life gets into a new rhythm. It’s not like how her life used to be, but it’s how her life is, and she realises that she likes it. She has her cat, she has Tay, and everything just feels settled, that everything just feels easy again.

Sure, there’s no high drama or adrenaline in her life—beyond patrol chases—that everything feels very routine and that the height of her happiness comes from snuggling with Roman and a tub of ice cream on the couch, and there’s a case to be made that Kim prefers life when it’s a little bit more exciting, when there’s high emotions all around because yeah that means dealing with a rollercoaster of irrational emotions but it means that she’s not shutting herself off from feeling things, shutting herself away from experiences but after her past year, Kim is just ready to have it easy for a bit.

Before she knows it, almost in a blink of an eye, Kim’s had Roman for a little over half a year and it feels like a lifetime, life has settled that much.

She comes into work one day, after a hellish weekend of Roman being sick—nothing too serious, just enough to cost her a bill from her vet and a weekend of no sleep—and she knows she looks a mess. And so she mentions this, that she’s been looking after Roman all weekend, when she sees some of her co-workers give her a look that day.

Yet again, she expects it to not be so much of a big deal, but her fellow officers really are lovely people, and several times over the next week or so, Kim gets several of them asking after him. It’s nice at first—even if it’s somewhat baffling, especially the person who gives her flowers for him.

That one she had been confused at.

“Thanks,” she said. “They’re lovely, but he’ll probably just try and eat them,”

After she said that, the officer had the audacity to look at her funny.

By the time a week had gone past, Kim had officially reached her limit. She gets concern, and it’s lovely, but Roman has bounced right back now and she wonders why everyone is so concerned—especially when she has heard barely anything about an officer in another district who had gotten shot.

It’s Garcia that she finally loses her last straw with.

“How’s Roman doing?” He asks her and she normally likes the officer, but she’s beyond confused now and honestly just wishes that everyone would stop wondering about her cat, that surely she can’t always be the most interesting piece of gossip around.

“He’s okay! Having the time of his life pissing in my bathroom and eating damn flowers, stop asking! It was just a minor thing!” At what she bursts out saying, a few more officers nearby turning to look at them, Garcia frowns, looking rather confused himself.

“I though he was in ICU?”

Kim’s mind momentarily blanks at that, not in the slightest prepared to deal with how ridiculous gossip at the district can get, that information will pass from one lip to another and somehow get distorted to her cat being in ICU and she doesn’t even fully process the first thing that she says before it’s out her own lips.

“Do they even have ICU for cats?”

Garcia blinks. “Cats?”

And that is when Kim learns that for the past six months or so, everyone had thought she was dating Sean Roman, her asshole ex-partner.

Her asshole ex-partner who was recently just shot.

Naturally, the truth that Kim has a cat called Roman, and is not dating Sean Roman, isn’t spread around even a quarter as fast as the opposite was, and two days later Kim is still being asked, repeatedly, about Roman the human.

And even when Kim corrects them, they all pull the same kind of look at asks her if she’s sure—like she really doesn’t know who is and isn’t in her bed. Even Platt looks at her a little doubtfully.

Tay finds this all hilarious.

She finds it even more hilarious when on the third day, Kim walks into the district holding her pet carrier with a very confused Roman sitting in it. She hadn’t exactly been thrilled about having to take in Roman—although once he realised they weren’t at the vets, he seemed more calm—but needs must. Kim puts the pet carrier on Platt’s desk.

“Sarge, this is my cat, Roman. Proof I am very much not dating my ex-partner but that I am instead a dedicated cat mother. Now if you’ll allow it, I’d appreciate some time to go round and introduce my fluffy boy to the rest of the officers because I am ending this rumour, once and for all.”

Platt has had a range of different reactions to Kim’s demands before, and she never knows exactly how the desk sergeant is going to react. But today she knew it was going to be one of two ways; either Platt was going to tell her to get the fuck out and return cat-less, or she was going to find it all very amusing and let her continue.

Kim had hoped and hoped all morning that it would be the latter.

Luckily, it is.

“On you go, Burgess.” Platt had chuckled, a rare compliment in itself. “I’ve got to say, I’m relieved your brains aren’t totally useless, I thought you had better taste. And this Roman is an improvement on the previous one.”

It sounds like a compliment, but Kim doesn’t quite know what to think about Platt thinking she was dating Sean and very uncharacteristically not saying anything about it to her? There’s no time to dwell on that, however, she has a record to correct.

Even with her physical cat—and a photocopy of some of his vet records to prove his name—it’s still a frustrating job trying to convince everyone that yes, she’s really not dating Sean and that yes, all she’s mentioned Roman since he left was all about a cat.

Kim didn’t want to stay too long at the district, not wanting to put Roman through too much, but she ends up staying longer than she had planned. She’s giving him a little fuss in the quietness of the locker, checking to see if he seemed too overwhelmed.

“This is my locker,” she coos at her boy, pointing it out. “And right here is where I got engaged. And then un-engaged. Which is why I got you.”

Kim isn’t too sure when she became that person, the person to talk to her pets, but she had. She is just getting more relaxed and less frustrated by the fact that she’s having to do this, at the absolute absurdity of it, when another officer enters the locker room and she’s explaining, again, that she’s not dating Sean Roman.

This officer is being rather obtuse. He crosses his arms, and a look of triumph appears on his face and Kim just knows, knows, that she’s going to hate what he next says. She’s not wrong.

“Then why did he transfer? All you gave us was non answer bull, because you were dating him and you didn’t want everyone to know you’re a badge bunny. C’mon, Burgess. We all know you wanted to get into intelligence, fucking that Ruzek didn’t give you that, so you moved on to your partner. It’s fine, no one is judging you.”

“Excuse me?” The officer is lucky that she’s still holding Roman, otherwise she wouldn’t be accountable for her actions, that she’d be tempted to go for him. But as she’s holding her cat, she just enthuses her words with as much spite as she could without being too loud to not startle Roman.

“Get this through your head. I. Am. Not. Dating. Sean. Fucking. Roman.” Kim practically growls. Roman licks her chin. “And I didn’t fuck Ruzek, I was engaged to him, there’s a big fucking difference. And why we split has nothing to do with work, intelligence or any of your business. And fucking a cop, or two, or more, wouldn’t make me a badge bunny—it just means like every other profession, your colleagues are also your peers.

“And for why my old partner transferred? Because he wanted more and I didn’t and he was so fucking cowardly that he couldn’t just continue here or not make a big deal over it—and if you want a badge bunny, there he is. Because he has the record for seeing his partners as eligible romantic options not fellow officers and then running away, not me. Now get the fuck out of my face and I might consider not telling Sergeant Platt that she has a sexist officer.”

Kim has no intention of not telling Platt, but it’s worth saying it just to watch the officer’s face pale and watch him leave hastily. She immediately breathes out when she does so, smiling at Roman as he licks her chin again.

“Kim?” She looks up from her cat, to see Kevin—Atwater—standing in the locker room, looking at her with a sheepish and apologetic expression.

“I heard what he said to you—if you need a co-witness for your statement to Platt.” He tells her and Kim gets an ache in her heart at Kevin still knowing her so well that he knows, despite what she said, that she’ll be reporting the officer.

“Thank you.” Kim gives him a small smile, hoping that maybe there’s a way for them to fix the split between them. There’s a bit of an awkward silence so Kim approaches the pet carrier again.

“Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair now.” She says. She would’ve put Roman back in to the carrier then, but he stubbornly refused.

“No—I came in here to see you. I wanted to talk.” Kevin stops her anyway. “Well, rather apologize. I didn’t realise you had gotten a cat that day when I—”

Kim immediately gets what he is saying, a dawning realisation falling upon her.

“And you thought I was dating Sean, too. Right after breaking up with Adam.” Everything Kim said comes rushing back to her. “And thought I was telling you I wanted out families aka my new boyfriend to mix, when Adam is still hurting and is your best friend.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry, Burg. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Kim is shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you’re still my family, and that your siblings would probably love to fuss over a cat I didn’t think about phrasing. I’m just happy you didn’t choose Adam over me—I thought... I thought you loved him more,”

“Come here,” Kevin holds out his arms and Kim immediately goes in for the hug despite the cat occupying her arms. “Adam’s my bro, but you’re my sister. I could never choose between you.”

Roman squirms so they end the hug sooner than they probably would’ve, but Kim already feels so much lighter. She smiles, properly this time, at him.

“So then, do you want to bring Jordan and Vinessa over to meet my very cute cat? I’ll give them some treats to give him and he’ll love them forever,” Kim asks him again and Kevin smiles back.

“I’d love that.”

Kevin then pauses, frowning a little. “Have you talked to Adam?”

“... Not since the break up.” Kim shook her head.

“You should. Or I could, if you don’t want to see him. Just—he also thinks you’ve been dating Roman—the human Roman. And he’s not been dealing well with it at all.”

Kim’s heart immediately twists painfully.

Adam.

It’s been hard for her to remember that gossip reaches Intelligence’s ears all the same, and that Adam would hear things, things about her, that she doesn’t tell him. From basically the beginning, Adam’s always heard things through her telling him, usually the first one to find out—that is, until they broke up. But still it is a foreign concept for Kim to get her head around, that just because he’s not hers anymore, because they’re not together, it doesn’t mean that he somehow is blocked from ever finding out things about her, that just because she’s not telling him doesn’t mean someone isn’t.

Her heart aches. Aches because she should’ve realised, aches because she didn’t.

It’s been six months of an easy life, of low pressure and just existing, living in a peaceful bubble of just Roman and her, of healing and processing and moving on and a lot of that involved pushing Adam out of her mind, and it’s been good to Kim.

But that bubble bursts now. And Kim hurts—hurts because Adam hurts, because she’s always hurt when he does, and she hurts because it hits her then—she’s healed, and she still so achingly wants Adam.

“No, I’ll tell him—tonight.” Kim tells Kevin. She knows Adam needs to know, know that she never even considered Sean, and she knows that she needs to be the one to tell him.

#ree.writes #burzek #kim burgess #adam ruzek #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #burzek fic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

If it's all in my head, tell me now

Summary: Six weeks after Kim and Hailey had a fight, ending their totally not romantic relationship, they are sent on a case, together, alone and it gets harder to keep running from talking to each other.

cpd au, probably au of late S5/early s6 but it doesn't specify so you can really go on when you want it to be set. Kim x Hailey.

Warnings: angsty (emotional angst with a satisfying ending).

Word Count: 8.4k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a belated birthday fic for the wonderful, incredible @sylvies-chen . Happy belated birthday, Abby and I'm sorry this took a few extra days!!! I hope you enjoy; I just had to write something wlw for you (although no smut this time :( although I might do some smutty sequels bc I wanted to include some smut in this but it took a different tone then I planned!!) ❤️❤️❤️

In general, Kim likes having Voight as a boss, especially when there are problems in her personal life. Voight is very no-nonsense type of man, and hates any time personal issues are dragged into the work place, a great thing when all Kim wants to do is escape from the personal problems in her life.

Yet there are times, like now, where Kim can’t take his hatred for personal issues at face value and where she can’t help but be convinced that he secretly gets off on messing with his unit. Or that maybe he likes to think up new and inventive ways to punish his unit for breaking his rules against personal issues.

It’s the only thing that makes sense. Her boss is very observant and surely there is no way he hasn’t noticed the palpable tension between two of his unit members, or the way they go to extreme lengths to not be near each other, let alone being left together with no one else around.

And yet, here Kim finds herself. On the road. Trapped in a car. Alone.

Well, not completely alone.

Hailey is with her, here in the car, the words unspoken between them festering in the air and making her feel as if she is suffocating. By all accounts, the day is pretty cool for late March, yet it feels too hot, too stuffy, like it’s the height of summer.

Hailey always has that effect on her, making her feel several degrees too hot.

She used to like it, liked how the heat would slowly rise under her skin, how her cheeks would always be ever so slightly permanently flushed whenever Hailey was near her. It felt electric, and Kim would be filled with a desire, a need, to reach out, to touch her, even if it was just a slight brush of her fingertips along Hailey’s hand, shoulder, arm.

It used to embolden Kim. That when she was lying, clad in only her underwear, on Hailey’s bed, she’d love how she felt so, so hot, her temperature soaring at the mere thought of her desire for the blonde, and it would inspire courage in her, to drag the blonde towards her, to beg orgasms of her, to kiss her all over and convince her that they should make each other late by taking a long, long shower together.

Back in the times where everything was good. Back before feelings got involved and made everything messy.

Kim wonders how this little road trip would’ve gone back then. Would their hands have been entwined? Would they be flirting and joking and teasing each other ever so slightly making them want to get to the hotel as soon as possible? Would they be a little unprofessional and make their trip slightly longer by stopping on the country roads and stretching their legs, just to get a little more time together?

When Voight told them that they were the ones to be sent upstate to go interrogate someone picked up by another town’s pd who fits their perp description, would they have smiled? Share a secret look between them and get excited for the time together?

None of the awkward look they both gave, or how they both clamoured quickly to try and talk Voight out of it, ignoring the intrigued looks from the rest of their team. And when Voight inevitably told them to shut up and stop complaining, they’d have been none of the awkward silence in the car, none of the tense small talk they stumbled through before eventually putting the radio on a station neither really likes so there was just something they could use as an excuse not to talk.

The radio is playing some song from the sixties, and it’s reminding Kim of something from her childhood. For a moment, she forgets about everything, about how she wishes she was anywhere but here, about how the car feels too small or her annoyance at the traffic jam they spent two hours stuck in.

Instead, she just smiles at the memory of being at her grandparents in the summer, and it makes her heart all fuzzy and warm—because her grandparents, to Kim, is what love is—and she’s half way through opening her mouth to tell Hailey about it, the need to share this happy memory with the woman she—no—with Hailey surging, when she remembers everything and she snaps her mouth shut, turning back to looking out the window at the flat, boring fields.

Kim is all ready to forget her near-blunder; that she nearly broke the heavy silence hanging over them, and the unspoken rule that neither one of them wants to have eye contact, let alone sharing cute stories from childhood. But Voight isn’t the only one in the unit who’s observant, because Hailey—Hailey, being the amazing detective she is, Hailey, being the amazing human she is, for not being how Kim would be if she was driving, knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead—clocks onto Kim’s open and then decidedly not open mouth.

“This is ridiculous.” Hailey snaps, taking one hand off the wheel so she can deftly turn off the radio, making the car descend into deafening silence.

Hailey is not one to snap, only ever at criminals but this isn’t that Hailey, isn’t interrogating Hailey. It’s more like an agitated mother on a road trip snapping at her rambunctious children and Kim hates herself for the imagery it immediately brings to her mind.

Of Hailey, a few years older than now, blonde hair tied up, wedding ring on her finger, driving three unruly children to their holiday. Three children with a mixture of looks, of brunette and blonde, or blue eyes and brown, of a strong Greek look or an Italian one.

It’s the kind of imagery that got her into this mess; the kind of imagery that makes her heart race and her breath quicken, the kind of imagery that makes her yearn for a future that looks like that, a future of two Mrs Uptons, or Burgess’, or maybe even a new surname that’s just theirs, and a handful of kids who may not even be all related by blood but are so clearly family.

The kind of imagery Kim hates that her heart still craves, even after six weeks of this mess between then, of six weeks of awkward glances and stumbling words. Even weeks after it was made clear this kind of future was not in the cards for them.

“What were you about to say?” Hailey asks, her tone laced with frustration, a few long seconds later. Kim wonders if she was meant to say something after Hailey shut off the radio, if the expectation is that she’d say something, anything, even if it was just to tell Hailey to shut up. That Hailey took so long to continue after snapping because she was waiting for Kim to say something, to yell or show any verbal acknowledgement of the blonde beside her, until it became obvious Kim had no intention to.

“Nothing.” Kim knows that’s an annoying response, even before Hailey sighed. It’s petty, but as much as Kim said it because she has no intention in letting Hailey know she wants to share warm fuzzy memories with her, she also said it because she knows it’s annoying. Her heart is a mess, in shambles and confused, and Kim has quick learnt that when it comes to Hailey, apparently she likes being a petty person.

“Kim.” Hailey sounds so exasperated and the idyllic family future springs back into Kim’s mind, and Kim knows that she’s going to be even more stubborn, trying to shut those thoughts out of her head as much as possible.

“This is so ridiculous,” Hailey repeats herself. Her voice is tired, and Kim wonders if she looked at her—which she’s stubbornly not, keeping her eyes fixated out of the window—she’d see the tiredness on Hailey’s face. The thought makes her heart pang, because Hailey’s face should only be smiling, or contorted in pleasure, or even that frankly hot intimidating expression she tends to pull in interrogations, but never tired.

“It’s been six weeks. We need to talk, get passed this.” Hailey pauses, clearly looking for a response in Kim, but Kim refuses to give her one. “Kim, we shouldn’t have to listen to music that we both hate just because we’re having to partner up at work. Before all this, we used to be friends, didn’t we? Can’t we just go back to that?”

Friends.

The word stings more than Kim would want it to. Even more as Kim realises, as soon as that word drops from Hailey’s—(kissable)—lips and it feels like a bucket of cold water has been chucked over her, that she was starting to wonder if she should give in to this silent tug of war, the silent battle of wills between them of acting like they care less than the other. That she was starting to wonder if she should just lay everything out, and hope to god that Hailey listens.

But then Hailey said friends and Kim is reminded once more of what got them into this mess, that they want different things. That there’s no point in telling Hailey how much she loves her, that she wants to spend the rest of her life with her, that Hailey is her sun, that Kim is the moon to her earth. Because Hailey doesn’t want a relationship like that, not now, and Kim’s wondering if ever, at least not with her. There’s no point in Kim embarrassing herself further, not when Hailey wants to go back to being friends.

Not when Kim decidedly does not want to be her friend.

“Kim? We can still be friends, right?” Hailey’s voice sounds uncharacteristically quiet, reminiscent of their late night chats after they fucked each other’s brains out, and all Kim wants to do is pull her closer. But Hailey then lightly touches her arm to get her attention, and it’s like an electric shock to the system and Kim’s practically jumping out of her skin, pulling far away from Hailey as the car allows.

Kim pretends she doesn’t see the flash of hurt on Hailey’s face at that.

“Sure,” Kim manages to get out after it’s clearly getting too long after Hailey has spoke again. Saying the one syllable word feels like eating ground glass, and the way her voice sounds almost strangled Kim knows that Hailey must have doubts about the sincerity, but the blonde gives her a half-hearted smile nevertheless.

The smile shoots little sharp knives into her heart, but Kim pretends that she doesn’t feel like she’s dying. She’s already told the blonde she loves her and got nothing in return, she wants to maintain some dignity.

Being friends is harder than just saying so, something they quickly realise only a few minutes after agreeing to try.

Neither seemed to really know what they wanted to say to each other, words being stumbled over each other again. Normally, when making friends again once more with someone—not that Kim had done so, really, since she was a kid—you focus on catching up the other on parts of your life they had missed, but Kim wasn’t inclined to want to catch Hailey up, not ready to talk to her like there isn’t an aching gap in her heart and by the way Hailey didn’t as well, Kim got that she didn’t fancy doing so either. The reasons for why most likely differing from her own, since Hailey was the one who proposed they go back to being friends, so it’s not like her heart has been ripped out of her chest like Kim’s has.

The radio was soon put back on, and that’s the way the rest of the journey to the medium-small sized Illinois town remained. It’s late by the time they get there, and they only have time for an introduction to the pd detectives assigned to show them around. Detectives Moran and Jameson are perfectly nice people, and they clearly have a good, smooth running partnership—it reminds Kim of Hailey’s with Jay, a thought that made her feel all bitter and sour inside, like any time Kim sees them two together does—and Kim feels bad that she doesn’t feel much like herself, ending the evening a lot sooner than she would ordinarily.

They had given them a quick tour of their precinct, and shown them to the motel they’ll be staying out—a one bedroom with twin beds, naturally, because the world hates her—and then took them out for a meal and some wine at a mid-level restaurant a walk away from the motel.

The detectives are good company, and Kim at times found herself getting lost in the present, in their jokes and stories, forgetting about the awkwardness she felt at the blonde sitting next to her—sitting way too close, although even if Hailey was on the other side of the room it still would feel too close—Kim will give them that.

But the time ticked on, and Kim became more and more aware that she was going to have to try and sleep in a room where Hailey lays three feet away, and try not to think about how much she wishes that they’d be pushing the beds together, and curling up close, so close that she wouldn’t know where she ended and Hailey began, so close that their respective smells would mix together; a sweet smell that reminds Kim of love and safety, of being home. And she knew that she needed to leave the restaurant, get some cool air on her too-hot skin before having to sleep.

Kim waited until Hailey was in the middle of telling Moran and Jameson about an arrest she made back in robbery and homicide to stand up, gulping down the rest of her wine, and politely excused herself.

“Oh, I’ll come with you,” Hailey offered, as if she wasn’t in the middle of a story. The lighting in the restaurant made her eyes seem even more blue, and Kim nearly just agreed because of the beauty of them. Luckily she managed to swallow down her agreement, pulling on a too-tense smile on her face.

“That’s okay. Finish. I’ll see you later—if I’m still awake, friend.” It’s petty, Kim knows, to add on the friend, but she could see Hailey gearing up to protest and somehow Kim just knew saying that would make her pause.

Kim wondered if it’s because Hailey knows that the word is like twisting a knife in her own heart, and a part of her wishes she does know how much she’s hurting, just to be seen, to be understood, even if a larger part of her very much does not want the humiliation of the woman who doesn’t love her back to know how desperate she is for her.

Sleeping, Kim is finding, however, is still incredibly hard to do even without the presence of the blonde in the room.

The smell of Hailey’s perfume still lingers in the air, and it reminds Kim of how her apartment no longer smells like that, that all traces of Hailey has faded, that she doesn’t even have any of her clothes still lying around the house because after everything, Kim packed it all up in a box and left it outside Hailey’s apartment in a fit to make herself appear less desperate, less needy after her—second—impromptu love confession.

And as if that wasn’t enough to ensure sleep wouldn’t be coming, Kim’s mind was racing about the implications of Hailey taking the bed closest to the door. Logically, Kim knows it’s just because Hailey entered first, or maybe just out of politeness. But Kim can’t get the image of Hailey almost meaningfully setting her bag down on the bed, claiming it as hers, that it was almost protective, that she wanted the bed closest to the door as of to protect Kim from any intruders.

As unrestful it makes her mind, it’s a better thought than the one that Hailey wanted the bed closest to the door so that she could get away from Kim as soon as possible.

Really, Kim should’ve expected this. That sleep would be too far away to grasp, that her mind would feel alert, too alert. Even when she’s in her own bed, sleep fails to come to her, the events that led to her having an empty space beside her replaying in her head over and over.

It does so now, too, the memories feeling even stronger with the smell of Hailey lingering in the air. It makes the moment Kim slept with Adam, that stupid fucking moment, and Hailey walking in to see them in bed together feel more real; the scent of Hailey had still lingered in her room then too.

Kim knows that what she did, sleeping with Adam, wasn’t cheating. They weren’t exclusive, they weren’t even together. They were just fucking. That’s what they agreed on when it started, that they were just fuck buddies, friends with benefits, stress relief. And who cares if the lines got blurred, if they were spending more time going out to eat, just the two of them—never called dates, though—or that there was days they’d have no sex and just cuddle and sleep, that there was basically no day—night—they didn’t spend apart. They weren’t exclusive, and they weren’t dating.

That was made perfectly clear, when Hailey was cuddled up in her arms, and Kim was feeling so, so happy and so, so in love that she let those words tumble from her lips. I love you.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey completely froze, and then when she was tearing herself from Kim’s arms, getting up from her bed and hastily pulling on her clothes, stumbling out some excuse about early starts and how she should go home.

That was made perfectly clear when Kim tried to stop her, tried to remind her that they can drive in together, and that it doesn’t matter if Hailey doesn’t say it back.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey snapped back, saying that it does matter, because Kim had clearly forgotten the rules, that they were just fucking and that’s that and they never should’ve started sleeping over.

There is no reason why Kim should feel as if sleeping with Adam was like cheating on Hailey, not after that reminder. The one shittiness should just be that it happened the very next night, and even then, if they were just fucking why should it matter if Kim sleeps with someone else?

Honestly, Kim should only feel bad about using Adam like that. For drinking with him that Friday night, and inviting him back to hers. For using him to make herself feel better, using him to make herself feel like she doesn’t love Hailey, that she doesn’t want to be with her, and she doesn’t care about the words Hailey snapped back at her, or the way Hailey steadfastly avoided her all day—and for using him to mentally say fuck you to Hailey, for using him to get back at the jealousy Kim felt at seeing Hailey joke and laugh—flirt—with Jay that whole day, all while she felt like she was dying.

And she does, feel bad. Adam was a whole gentleman about the whole thing, didn’t pry or get upset or make anything more awkward for them when Hailey walked into Kim’s bedroom that Saturday morning, holding an apology coffee from their favourite place. He didn’t question their excuses that Hailey’s clearly hurt face was just because they had plans that day, and Kim had forgotten and had deftly gotten the fuck out of her apartment, clearly sensing the two needed to talk. He had only sent a text to her later that day, asking if she wants to talk about it, and when she replied with no he respected that.

The fact that Kim can have such a good friendship with her ex-fiancé should give her hope that one day Hailey and her can be friends, but it doesn’t, because there’s nothing Kim hates more then the thought of just being Hailey’s friend, not when she wants so much more, much more than she ever—if she is honest—wanted with Adam.

It’s Kim’s fault, really. She shouldn’t have told Hailey that she loves her, and she definitely shouldn’t have repeated it that Saturday morning, telling Hailey that she has all the rights to go fuck someone else after Hailey left her after she told her how she felt, and that she wasn’t wrong of her to expect that maybe, just maybe, that might change things.

Kim should’ve just let them continue with their comfortable routine of ignoring what was growing between them—or rather, ignoring what Kim thought was growing, because clearly it was only on her side. And no matter Kim wants to say that they should just go back to that, they can’t, not now. The words are like toothpaste, once it’s out there, there’s no getting it back in.

Their only options now are either being together or being friends. And Hailey’s made it clear that the former isn’t on the table, but the latter makes Kim feel sick to her stomach. The thought of only having Hailey in her life as a friend is not one she can stomach, that she’d rather not have her in it at all because the thought of acting like her heart isn’t breaking, that she isn’t in love with her friend, is too much for Kim to bear.

“Kim? Kim are you awake?” Hailey’s whisper comes not too long after Kim hears the room’s door open. Her eyes are shut, and have been ever since she got into the stiff bed, and so she doesn’t know how long it’s been since she left the restaurant. It doesn’t feel like long, but it also feels like it was forever. Time has no meaning whenever Hailey is concerned for her.

Despite being awake, Kim keeps her eyes closed and pretends not to be. She doesn’t know what Hailey wants, but she doesn’t intend on finding out. She tries to keep her breathing, all too aware that this is a woman with chronic insomnia, and so definitely has seen her sleep before.

“I just wanted to say—oh nevermind.” Hailey goes to say, almost as if she knows that Kim wouldn’t respond even if she is awake, and when she cuts herself off, Kim nearly opens her eyes and turns to face her, immediately wanting to know what she was going to say.

But curiosity killed the cat, and Kim’s already taken too many hits to her pride, so she remains still, keeping up the sleep rouse. All while knowing that there’s now one more thing that’ll be keeping her up.

“Voight gave us the all clear to stay. Told us to stay as long as we need, no hurry. Ordered us, really. He doesn’t want to potentially jeopardize this case if he’s our guy, and thinks we should ride it out, alone, to continue building the rapport.” Kim walks back into their motel room, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She tries to take the bitterness at Voight’s answer out of her voice, tries to make it sound not like as if she’s just received the worst news ever, but she knows she failed miserably.

Upon spending one day here, the only day they were meant to stay, they quickly realised that their possible man is going to take his sweet time cracking, and so they realised they would need to ask Voight for an extension. Kim had volunteered to call him, and there was a not small part of her that hoped that he’d tell them to come home. That he’d go with them taking the guy back to Chicago, so they can continue with the rest of the unit.

But no. No, Voight just had to have faith in them.

Kim is really beginning to think there’s credence in her theory that Voight likes to think up new and inventive ways to punish them for dragging personal issues until the unit.

She just really hopes that he hasn’t guessed all the details of what happened between Hailey and her. That he—shiver—hasn’t figured out that they were sleeping together. The thought of Voight having any inclination of her sex life... It’s one that makes Kim cringe inside and get the urge to never be able look him in the eye again.

“I thought he’d say that.” Hailey isn’t one to gloat, or be smug—not maliciously, anyway, since Kim definitely knows she can be smug. Like when she manages to give Kim the best orgasms of her life, or can make her feel so needy and desperate for her with just one look—but Kim can’t help hear a smug tone to her words. It’s in her imagination, but it doesn’t make Kim feel any less irrationally annoyed.

“Yeah, well I guess that’s why you’re the detective,” Kim’s words are petty, dry in a way that’s too uncalled for, she knows this, even as she says it. She’s busing herself sorting her bed out in anticipation for sleep, saying the words so casually, so casually passive aggressive in a way Kim cringes at inside. If not because Hailey really doesn’t deserve it—she’s been very mature, and has made an effort to be more friendly today after their agreement to be friends, and it’s not her fault she doesn’t return Kim’s feelings—but because it reveals too much about how Kim’s really feeling then she wants to let Hailey know.

But Kim feels so messy inside, a jumble of emotions coursing through her all hours of the day, only amplified whenever the blonde is near her, or in her eyeshot. It’s making her more irritable, more bitter, more jealous.

Especially after their agreement to be friends. Kim doesn’t know why, it should make it better that at least she has an answer to how Hailey wishes to go forward, even if it’s not the same as what she wants, but Kim’s never claimed to be an expert in emotions—especially her own.

And it’s making her hear tones in Hailey’s voice that is uncharacteristically her, and sending her mind into overdrive. Like earlier that day, when Hailey introduced her to the perp as officer Kim Burgess, all Kim heard was an emphasis on her title, in direct comparison to Detectives Upton, Moran and Jameson.

All Kim heard was the reminder of one of the many probable reasons to why Hailey doesn’t love her back, why Kim’s only good enough to be a friend.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Hailey’s expression is one of confusion, and she looks so innocent, so precious, that Kim nearly forgets why she feels so upset.

“Nothing.” Kim says too fast to sound believable. “Just pointing out a fact. You’re the detective.”

The addition didn’t make Kim sound any less bothered, and while it felt satisfying at first to make the quip—even if it was a response to a transgression made up in her head—Kim’s frantically panicking inside now at Hailey realising her insecurities, not wanting to appear that vulnerable to the woman who rejected her.

Kim spots a Chinese takeout menu sitting on the bedside table between their respective beds. She grabs it. “This seem good for dinner?”

“Kim,” Hailey begins slowly. “We’ve already eaten dinner. Like right before you phoned Voight.”

Shit. Cursing herself, Kim wonders if she could believably feign early on-set dementia in order to get out of this with some dignity.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this. Sit.” Hailey fixes her a look often given to eyewitnesses who are hiding important details. She sits down on her bed, indicating Kim to do the same on hers. The last thing Kim wants to do is sit and talk but she can’t not obey when Hailey’s looking at her like that.

Yesterday’s dream of the future family she wants them to have pops back into her mind, this time picturing Hailey sitting down the children, a broken vase or bowl swept up, telling them she’s not mad, she just wants to talk, to discuss playing safely or something domestic like that.

She really, really needs to get a grip on herself.

“Do we have a problem?” Hailey asks and Kim has to bite back the scoff, because problem barely begins to describe what Kim feels, and because it’s less of a we and more just like I, because Hailey is clearly coping with this whole thing so much more easier—which makes sense, since she hasn’t lost anything, not like Kim who lost everything she thought she was gaining.

“I’m just tired.” She offers as an excuse. Kim wanted to continue to deny that there wasn’t something up, but it’s clearly not going to fly, so instead of digging in her heels, she tries to act like it’s just grumpiness.

Hailey’s expression twists a little, and Kim can see her gearing up to prod some more—Hailey had gotten really good at reading her, even if it isn’t obvious that there’s something deeper beneath the surface going on.

“Really. Pay me no mind, I’m just tired. Sorry for being a bit grumpy, it’s just the tiredness.” Kim continues, throwing in an apology before giving Hailey a smile she did not feel. She rises from her bed, making motions to get her bed clothes, ready to continue to brushing off this and hoping Hailey will go along.

“Kim,” Hailey then catches her arm, having also rose. “Talk to me. We agreed to be friends, remember?”

No such luck.

“Yes. We did.” Her voice is clipped. A look then passes across Hailey’s face, like something is dawning on her. Kim panics, her heart thumping too fast in her chest, realising she’s played her cards too open, that Hailey’s going to realise that Kim doesn’t want to be her friend, that Kim wants more.

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t want to be your friend,” The words drop from Kim’s mouth before she can even think them through, her mind shutting down and going into survival mode. Hailey tilts her head slightly, and Kim’s positive that she edges a little closer to her. Something in the back of her mind is going wrong, wrong, wrong like it’s caught onto something the rest of her hasn’t.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Hailey begins and Kim thinks that surely her heart rate has reached a new record, with how fast it’s beating, like it’s trying to break through her rib cage. “We had fun, right? You know... Before. And I miss you, I miss that fun. I miss my.. my best friend. And I was thinking, the sex part, you know, that isn’t off the table for me. We can still do that. Nothing’s changed there, for me. If you still want me.”

Hailey looks so vulnerable, so open, her tone so soft. She’s so very rarely vulnerable and there’s a part of Kim that is so proud of Hailey for being so, especially when she can tell she was feeling awkward expressing all that, but that part of her is buried under all her emotions, all her hurt feelings, and the ringing in her ears she got after Hailey said best friend, like that’s obviously all Kim can ever be.

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to be your best friend, or your friend—or anything. We’re not friends, we’re just co-workers, nothing more. And honestly I’d be fine even if we weren’t even that.” Kim’s tone is so much more harsh than she wanted it to be, sounding even more harsh in contrast to Hailey’s soft tone, the words biting coldly.

Hurt covers Hailey’s fault, unable to be hidden, although it doesn’t seem like Hailey even tried, something that just makes Kim feel even worse, making her want to take back the words.

But she doesn’t, focusing on keeping a wall up between them, knowing that she’ll be saving them a world of hurt. Kim can’t be what Hailey wants, she can’t be just a friend, and Hailey can’t be what Kim wants and it’s unfair of them to ask that of each other.

“Right.” The vulnerability disappears, Hailey’s expression going back neutral. Kim ignores the way her heart aches at that, just as much as she ignores the hurt that still lingers in Hailey’s eyes. “Co-workers it is.”

Somehow, this hurt even more than the deafening silence left in Kim’s apartment after Hailey head tailed out of it six weeks ago.

It’s silent in the car when Kim is driving them home three days later.

Hailey is slumped, asleep, in the passenger seat next to her, blonde hair lying half across her face, moving slightly every time she lets out a breath.

It’s the closest they’ve been in days, yet they couldn’t feel further apart.

They’ve spent the past three days standing at least four feet apart at all times, becoming alert and tense whenever one of them accidentally walks by too close. Hailey, naturally, is handling it better, appearing a lot less rattled at Kim’s mere presence that she is, but there’s been an ever-present hurt look in the back of her eyes whenever she ever even glances in Kim’s direction.

It is a miracle, really, that they even managed to get their guy to crack. It shouldn’t surprise Kim, both of them are always cool and in the headspace of just a cop whenever they step foot into an interrogation room, but Kim’s never felt quite like this before.

Or maybe it’s because Kim wishes they weren’t going home, that their man isn’t being processed for prison, that they hadn’t completed what they came here for. If you told her three days ago that she’d be dreading going home, she would never have believed that she could be feeling anything but relief.

But home sounds anything but relieving now.

To be in her own home, where the memories of Hailey lingers in every room. To be around the people who know them best, most of which are highly trained cops with a knack for reading people, and have to act like everything is fine. To being in a place where there’s others who love Hailey, others who can be her friend, and get to bask in the light that is Hailey Upton while Kim watches on because of herself. To be in a place she’s not, even after what’s happened, the person who knows Hailey best, that the last thing they had, the threadbare connection that even if they’re not good, they’re still a team in a sea of strangers.

Being away from home, it felt like hell until home was back on the table.

Away from home, they could be how they are without being scrutinized. They weren’t around people who know them, knows how they usually are. If people could tell that something’s wrong between them, at least they had no right to ask about the details, to get them to open up, to fix things.

Although depending what Jameson pulled her aside to say before they left, Kim’s not too sure if that’s true.

In the four days they had spent in the town, they had gotten to know Moran and Jameson quite well. Like that they don’t only work well together as partners, but that they are together. That they are happy together. Jameson explained how their captain is only allowing them to remain partners because they do good work, but that as soon as they’re married, they’ll have to be split and Kim watched how her eyes lit up at saying that, smiling affectionately at her boyfriend, showing that not only are they happy, but they are both anticipating marriage happening somewhere down the line.

Kim can’t lie and say it didn’t make her jealous.

Hailey had gotten to get to know them better—well, at least, Jameson—however. Kim blames the fact that after the co-worker talk, she had been ending the day and going back to the motel before Hailey, and Hailey had been agreeing to see some of the town’s sights with Moran and Jameson after work.

This also makes Kim feel jealous, even if she knows it’s her fault.

She just hadn’t realised how well they had been getting to know each other, not until Jameson pulled her to one side when Hailey was helping Moran with the paperwork.

“I know this is none of my business,” Jameson had started. “But I’ve noticed things about you and Upton. And well, Hailey’s said some things to me when I’ve asked and I’m not gonna presume to know everything or go get anything—I don’t really know you, after all. But I’ve been where you are. I know Johnny and I, we seem so good now, but we had such a messy start. He was freshly divorced, I had only ever had crappy relationships and my mother isn’t exactly a great role model when it comes them, and we were both so emotionally out of our depth. And I just want to say that all this is doing is wasting time being miserable when you could be happy, and it’s so much better just being open and honest, even if it seems scary or you have no idea how.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting out but it doesn’t apply here.” Kim played dumb, really not wanting to bond with this detective over this, and definitely not wanting to admit that there’s something going on and that she’s miserable.

Jameson just gave her a look which clearly said everything she thought about that.

“I’m just saying that honesty is the best policy for a reason. And communication, it works. I can tell that you—both of you—you’ve got your own personal issues, that you don’t know how to be vulnerable or to let yourself be vulnerable, but one person who used to be like that to another, please try.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried that. Didn’t work.” Kim slipped, but she couldn’t help it, not when Jameson was telling her to do something she already did—when she told Hailey that she loves her and was met with silence.

Jameson gave her another look.

“Did you? Truly? I’m just basing this on what I’ve seen and what little Hailey’s said... I think it’s worth a try, being truly open. The worst case scenario is you get rejected, but something tells me that won’t be the outcome.”

Now, as Kim drives home, Jameson’s words is all she can think of.

Kim knows, knows, that talking isn’t something she’s particularly great at. She was getting better at it, and before everything, her and Hailey was good at it, just as long as they didn’t address what Kim thought was the elephant in the room. And that... That is what gave her the confidence to say that love confession, even if the words just slipped out.

But then when Hailey left, and refused to answer any of her texts or calls, Kim knows a wall went up in her heart. That maybe at the first bump, at the first stumble, Kim returned back to burying all her feelings down, trying to protect herself.

That since then she’s been in survival mode, unable to deal with the hurt she felt, unable to be able to consider going to Hailey and talking through all of this.

For the first time since Hailey said they were just fucking, Kim thinks about what she initially thought when Hailey froze. That she saw it through Hailey’s eyes, a woman Kim knows can be scared of commitment, a woman Kim knows learnt at an early age to never be vulnerable. That she understood that Kim saying the l-word might startle Hailey, might startle that flight or fight reaction in her, that Hailey might feel obligated to say it back and knowing she can’t, she flees.

Kim thinks about how she initially went to assure Hailey, telling her it didn’t matter, that she didn’t have to say it back. All she’s been thinking since is about how in that moment she was panicking to maintain some dignity, but she was also thinking about how to reassure Hailey, to calm the woman she loves from her own panic, from her trauma response.

Somewhere, between then and now, that had gotten lost.

It’s like a lightbulb in Kim’s head, and suddenly she feels very embarrassed, humbled. She remembers everything that’s happened since with a clearer eye, and she sees everything so much less clouded by her own hurt.

Hailey saying she misses her best friend. Misses. That it wasn’t about the title Kim is referred to, friend or not, it was about Hailey telling her that she misses her, that her life has a missing piece without Kim in it.

Hailey asking if they can be friends, that she was asking that if nothing else, can’t they at least try to be friends.

Hailey saying if you still want me. Literally asking Kim if she’s important to her, if she wants her in her life—if she wants her perhaps in the way Kim actually does want her.

Hailey avoiding her all day after the I love you. She can see it clearly now as Hailey not knowing how to proceed, knowing that she’s processing things and maybe even regretting how she handled it the night before.

Hailey coming around that Saturday, an apology coffee in her hand.

Oh god, she is such an idiot.

Somehow Kim had neglected to ever really wonder why Hailey came around, or what she was starting to say as she walked into her bedroom. But Kim wonders now, remembering the casual look Hailey had donned, in the clothes Kim had mentioned is the easiest for them to get off, remembering how Hailey had done her hair in that messy sort of way she did on their not-dates, the smile on her lips, and the nerves in her eyes.

Hailey... Hailey had come around to fix things. Not to repair a friendship but maybe... Maybe to express her own mutual feelings, even if it wasn’t as direct or open as the way Kim did the night before.

And Kim had fucked Adam.

It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been poured over her, and Kim looks at the blonde sleeping beside her, wanting to wake her up, to apologize and apologize over and over, realising just how much she had fucked this up. That she could’ve had it all, just like she wanted, that she wasn’t picturing things and instead she threw it away because she couldn’t see past her own hurt.

She doesn’t wake up Hailey. For one, she’s driving and should concentrate on that, lest she gets them into an accident just because she couldn’t wait. And for two, Kim knows she can’t botch this up, that she needs to think this through, think through her apology, how to phrase it, to make sure Hailey understands that she gets it, and that she’s truly sorry.

Kim is just grateful that Hailey decided to sleep most of the way home, knowing that she couldn’t keep in her new realisations in her head if she was awake the whole time. It’s hard enough when Hailey stirs right as they approach Chicago, waking up. Even more hard when Hailey goes to smile at her, but then stops herself, probably remembering the words Kim so, so regrets ever saying.

It’s late, and Voight told them that they get the day off tomorrow for their good work, so Kim drops Hailey off at her apartment. It’s agony watching Hailey barely look at her, getting her bag from the boot silently and just saying a quiet thank you. Kim can see how much Hailey’s own hurt is dripping off her, and all she wants to do is get out of the car and kiss her.

It’s even more hard to watch Hailey retreat to her apartment building, watching her walk away from her. It feels as if Hailey’s taken her heart with her, and with every step the ache in Kim’s chest grows.

Even waiting until tomorrow to apologize feels impossible.

And when Kim realises half way on her way to her own apartment that the car she’s driving is Hailey’s, that they had forgotten that, she knows she can’t wait any longer. She’s got to fix things, now, and she’s got a good reason for driving back.

Kim stops, briefly, parked in a store’s car park. There she gets out of the car, letting the cool late march air wash over her, before digging out her phone and dialling.

“Kim?” Adam answers almost straight away.

“Hey. Sorry for calling, I need to ask you something.” Kim pauses, pressing her free hand against Hailey’s car, feeling the cool metal beneath it. Adam waits patiently. “That Saturday, after we, you know. And Hailey came in. What... Okay just go with me here, what do you think is going on?”

Adam laughs.

“Well, Kev owes me five bucks. He thought you’d go to him for advice.”

“I’m not asking for advice. I just want to know what you think.” Kim immediately gets defensive, only spurring on the chuckle Adam gives her.

“Kim, everyone knows you two are sleeping together. Okay so I didn’t know until that Saturday—yes, Kevin and Jay teased the fuck out of me for that—but it wasn’t hard to figure out. And everyone pretty much knows you two had a lover’s spat—which, Kim, you know I love sex, but next time talk to your girlfriend instead of sleeping with me, I’ve never felt so awkward in my life—and everyone wants you two to sort it out. And if you want my advice—,”

“I’m good,” Kim cuts him off, but light heartedly. “I just wanted to know, there’s definitely something there, between us.”

“Kim, aliens on Mars knows there’s something there. It’s so obvious, the looks you give each other.”

“Thank you—just thanks. And I’m sorry, for using you.”

After her conversation with Adam, Kim feels a hundred pounds lighter, a bounce in her step. She needed to get confirmation from someone else, that she isn’t seeing things, that she isn’t imagining feelings between them. She’s hurt Hailey enough, she can’t go in and apologize if she’s yet again got the wrong end of the stick.

She makes one last detour, going into the store quickly to grab some flowers. They’re only the cheap stuff, the fancier shops shut by now, but they’re still pretty—of course, nowhere near as pretty as Hailey is. But then again nothing is.

Kim is a bundle of nerves when she knocks at Hailey’s door. The time it take Hailey to answer feels like an eternity and her nerves only build while waiting. But then she opens the door and Kim knows, knows, that this is exactly what she needs to do.

“Kim?” Hailey looks shocked and confused to see her standing there, and she only gets more confused when she sees the flowers in Kim’s hands.

“It was your car. The car we took—it was yours.” As for starts to romantic speeches go, this could be better, especially as Kim hands the car keys to a confused looking Hailey.

“You could’ve driven it home.” Hailey says.

“I didn’t want to. I wanted... I wanted to see you. Hailey, I fucked up. I don’t want you to be just a co-worker, I want so much more. I want you. And I miss you too, like so much. And I’m so sorry that I slept with Adam and I pushed you away and saying—saying everything I said. And I know this probably can’t just make this all better, but I get it, I get you. Everything, how you reacted and everything. I was blinded by my own hurt, and I’m sorry I didn’t take into account your own trauma. But I got you these flowers, and I, uh, I won’t tell you I love you again because I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I will ask you if you could kindly please give me another chance and maybe go on a date with me?” Kim’s heart is beating so, so fast in her chest that she wouldn’t be surprised if Hailey’s neighbours could hear it.

There’s the longest pause between Kim finishing and Hailey responding and it feels like forever, and all that could go wrong flashes through her mind, but then Hailey smiles.

Hailey smiles, and it’s like the sun comes back into Kim’s life, lighting up her world.

“I’m sorry too, for how I reacted. I didn’t mean it, we were not just fucking, not to me anyway. I... I wanted to ask you out but I was so scared and then when you said that, I just panicked. There’s so much bad memories tied up around in those words and I didn’t know how to handle it, not coming from you. I’m sorry. And I’d love to go on a date.” Hailey’s words makes Kim’s heart skip a beat.

“But first,” Hailey then says, before stepping towards her, squishing the flowers still in Kim’s hands as she kisses her. It’s gentle, soft but so perfect. She pulls back, blue eyes shining.

“And if you’re not going to say it, I will.” Hailey takes a deep breath. “I love you,”

Hailey goes in for another kiss, and this time Kim drops the flowers on to the floor, wanting, needing, her hands to be free as she wraps her arms around her, pulling her tight against her, hand in her hair and deepens the kiss.

For the first time in six weeks, Kim finally feels alive. It’s not long before the two, still interlocked, retreat into the apartment, the flowers long forgotten outside the door.

Kim knows this is what she could’ve had six weeks ago, on that Saturday, had she not slept with Adam. She would’ve thought that she would have wanted a milestone like this to happen in her own place, in her own home, but the reality is that nowhere is home, no one place is home.

Her only home is with Hailey and finally, at last, Kim is home.

#chicago pd #kim burgess #hailey upton #kim burgess x hailey upton #upgess #chicago pd fanfiction #wlw fic #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree's.wlwriting #abby tag

[kim-ruzek]

life's strange sense of humour

Summary: Kim, Hailey, Sylvie and Stella all conceive their babies around the same time... Then also go into labour on the same day. Pure Crack, but taken seriously because this is me.

Or; a love letter to the upgess friendship because they went funny fic? Nah, we're gonna make it wholesome.

Warnings: Childbirth, I guess.

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on AO3

Notes: So. I had this funny thought months ago, recently talked about it with Cíara when they mentioned something similar and I'm having Thoughts about how I want the upgess friendship to go so apparently my mind went yes, write this, please.

Also Cíara: it's not the child number we decided and not the exact circumstances but I couldn't help but make burzek's conception happen this way 👀

Life, Kim has learned, can have a strange sense of humour sometimes.

This, she thinks to herself as her and Hailey stare, open mouthed, speechless, shocked at each other, is definitely one of those times.

“I... What?.. I,” Hailey stumbles out, her eyes wide, Kim staring back with equally wide eyes, watching as the blonde tries to process this, tries to process how they even happened—all while wondering herself what the chances of this happening are, that this can only be because life has a strange taste in what’s funny.

“This—this isn’t right, right? Kim, right?” Hailey almost looks desperate at her, glancing down at the stick in her hand and back up at Kim frantically, her eyes darting as she does so, gliding over the pink positive line like if she doesn’t focus on it, it won’t be there.

“Well, I kinda hope it is,” Kim lets out a dry kind of laugh as she answers, glancing at her own stick, with a matching pink line. “Since we brought these together and I—I want to be pregnant.”

The panic lessens briefly in Hailey’s eyes, her friend smiling again at Kim’s own shock. “Right, yeah. And you want to be pregnant—so no more freaking out, yeah?”

Hailey grabs Kim’s hand with her spare one, giving it a supportive squeeze. “No more freaking out, this is good.”

Kim smiles back at her friend, the hand holding her stick drifting over her flat stomach. Her earlier worries—about if she can do this, if she could handle being pregnant again—still clinging to her but not making her feel as sick, the joy and excitement at being pregnant, at having Adam’s baby in her again, flooding her stronger. She repeats her friend’s words in her mind; this is good.

“But like—yours could be right, and mine wrong? Right? Like that could happen? I mean— people get false positives. This, mine, it could be false?” Hailey has gone back to freaking out. Kim places her stick down so that she can run her hands down the blonde’s arms, calming her.

“Hailey, breathe. Everything is okay.” Kim pauses, letting Hailey breathe in and out before continuing. “It could be a false positive—it could also be real. But it’s okay, it’s not a crisis if it is real. Have you and Jay discussed kids?”

Hailey smiles momentarily at the mention of her husband, her hand twisting the wedding ring on her finger before answering Kim. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, of course we have. A few times—before we were even together, even. Not that we were planning it together—well, not out loud—”

“Hailey.” Kim cuts off her rambling. There’s not many times that the blonde rambles, even when she’s panicking, she keeps a—seemingly—calm head. But when she does, she can really start to spiral.

“Sorry.” Hailey stops, running a hand through her hair, the other still clinging to the stick, almost as if she can’t put it down, like the thought is something incredibly out there and impossible.

“What have you discussed? Do you two want kids?” Kim gently probes.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” Another short-lived smile. “But not—not now. It’s still, it’s something in the future. And we still weren’t fully decided if we’d do it this way, like I always wanted to adopt but I know, I know it’s not a walk in the park and we’ve been talking. I’ve been wondering if it was just because of the fear of my genes and I. We agreed we’ll leave it for a bit, but that’s gone out the window.”

Hailey pauses, running her hand through her hair again, before groaning. “Kim, tell me, what should I do?”

Kim gently holds both of her hands, closing Hailey’s fist around the stick. “You talk to Jay.”

That seems to calm the blonde, Hailey getting a soft smile on her face—the face Kim has dubbed her Jay smile. “Yeah. I talk to Jay.”

“Okay. Can we leave now—I think if we’re any longer Adam might just walk in. You know he has no patience,” Kim looks at Hailey’s expression carefully, noting every part of it, making sure that her friend is good enough to get through the rest of the day.

“Yeah. Yes.” Hailey nods, pulling Kim into a hug. “Thanks, Kim. And congratulations, again. This is really great.”

Kim squeezes her back, looking forward to when she might—maybe—be able to say it back to Hailey.

The day had started with Kim throwing up in the toilet. She had been feeling nauseous for a few days, going in waves, and that feeling—that thought that it might be because she’s pregnant and not because it’s flu season—had been in the back of her mind.

She had tried not to focus on that thought too much, not wanting to go down that path, not when it could just be a bug. Not wanting to give herself hope, only to get it taken from her.

Kim had rationalised it, even the throwing up. It was a minute amount, nothing compared to when she was pregnant the first time. Adam had a food related bug the other day, so this could just be that, Kim had told herself. Things tend to hit her a bit slower, after all.

And then there’s that Sylvie has a stomach bug—one that’s kept her in bed all week, texting Kim often to complain when Matt is on shift. And Kim had hung out with Sylvie the day before she fell ill. This, Kim told herself, is probably just it affecting her, now, too.

This day was the first time she threw up, and so was the first time she told Adam she’s been feeling nauseous. His reaction was exactly how she predicted it would be.

He had lifted an eyebrow, pausing as he sipped his coffee. “Are you... Do you think..?”

Adam had asked it very casually, his expression neutral. Like her, he was unable to say the words, finish the sentence, neither one of them wanting to voice the possibility, not wanting to voice it in case it’s not, not wanting the hurt associated with false hope.

“I don’t know. It’s probably a bug.” Kim had answered and he had hummed in response. A part of her wished that she wouldn’t tell him this, that she wouldn’t be having this conversation with him when it’s just a thought and not even, really, much of a possibility.

But communication is important, a lesson she had learnt many times before—that in the long run, it does more than doesn’t. And it’s not good for her, for herself, to keep these thoughts locked up only in her brain. Especially when having more kids is something they want.

It’s not like they’re actively trying. Kim’s only just come off birth control, and the doctor warned them it takes a while for her body to adjust. They had even been using condoms, occasionally, as it makes the clean up easier in their busy lives.

That had been all they had said to each other, then, needing to get Makayla ready and to school, before heading to work themselves. But it was only a few hours later, when another wave of nausea had washed over her while Adam and her were in the break room that she had stopped them making the coffee, grabbing at Adam’s arm.

“I should get a test.” Kim had told him, murmuring, but her urgency clear. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until she knew if she was or not, the thoughts in her mind almost distracting her.

“Okay. Now? We can say we’re going to see a CI?” Adam immediately got his game face on, and that’s when she had started to panic. About what if she is pregnant, about if she’s ready to be pregnant again, about if she can handle it.

Suddenly, the thought of simply peeing on a stick seemed impossible.

Hailey had entered the break room, then, and had took on look at Kim’s panicked expression and Adam trying to calm her to know that something was up. It only took one look between her and Adam, after Hailey asked if she was okay, for them to fill in Hailey, needing another voice to help them through this.

“Hey, calm down.” Hailey had said in that way of hers. “It’ll be okay and there’s no point panicking until you know—and here. If it’s too much to pee alone, I’ll take one with you. Moral support.”

It was an insane idea, Adam staring at Hailey incredulously. But it clicked in Kim’s brain, and she found herself saying yes before she knew what she was doing.

They had used the CI lie instead, telling Voight they were going to see one of Hailey’s. Kim had watched as Hailey tried not to focus on Jay’s eyes following them out the bullpen, not wanting to let him know there was anything more to it—good, considering.

The journey there and back was filled with Kim’s nervous ramblings to Hailey, as she voiced her fears and worries about this, the blonde just listening patiently and giving her comfort and support when she needed it.

They had taken the tests in the district ladies room, Adam waiting outside—probably shooing away anyone else. Which, Kim had thought, probably means Trudy will have a theory to her being pregnant before the day is up.

“It’ll be alright, Kim.” Hailey had reassured her as they waited those long two minutes. Hailey had gotten out her phone, had set a timer for them and even though Kim could see the seconds counting down, it felt like eternity.

“I can’t. Can you look at it?” Kim had asked after the minutes were up, unable to look at the stick, feeling quite like her heart was in her throat. Hailey had rolled her eyes good-naturedly, before telling Kim that she will.

The excited yelp that left Hailey’s mouth almost instantly after told Kim all she needed to know and Kim turned the stick to look at it herself, and seeing that amazing pink line.

“I’m pregnant! Hailey, I’m pregnant!” Kim couldn’t help her own excitement, throwing her arms around the blonde, squeezing her into a hug.

“Oomph,” Hailey clearly hadn’t been prepared for that, lifting her arms weirdly at the sudden brunette weight barrelled into her and that’s when Kim saw it.

Hailey’s own stick.

Hailey’s own stick, with her own pink line.

“Hailey!” Kim gasped before she can stop it, squeaking out her friend’s name. Hailey pulled back from the hug, frowning at Kim.

“What?”

“Your...” Kim couldn’t finish the sentence, instead she pointed at the stick and watched as Hailey looked down at it, watching the comprehension and then shock over take her face.

It’s a few days later, and Kim is sitting in Molly’s. Sylvie has gotten over her bug and immediately organised a girl’s night out. Not that Kim or Hailey will be drinking—a shame, since Sylvie had told them that she and Stella had some exciting news.

The day after the found out, Hailey had come into work and whispered into Kim’s ear that everything was okay. That her and Jay decided that this is unexpected but welcome, and they had a doctor’s appointment to confirm it.

Very little people know yet. Kim has been to the doctor, the doctor confirming she is ten weeks along. They told Kevin almost immediately, Trudy—as Kim guessed—had yet again figured it out and of course Hailey knows, alongside Jay.

They told Voight, just so Kim could explain why she doesn’t want to go out in the field—can’t, really, her pregnancy being somewhat of a high risk—although she’s waiting until Monday to officially disclose.

This weekend Adam and her have plans to tell Makayla, something she’s quite excited too, knowing how much her daughter wants to be a big sister, having been begging them for a baby for months—well, that or a puppy.

Hailey and Jay have only told, obviously her and Adam, and Will. They’re waiting until after today—the day of their doctor’s appointment—before disclosing and Kim and Hailey had a conversation about announcing it to their mutual friends, deciding it might be nice to do it together. Of course, it depends on how along Hailey is.

“Hey,” Hailey slips into the booth next to her and Kim smiles in greeting to her friend.

“Hey. How did the appointment go?” Kim asks, knowing once Sylvie and Stella gets here they won’t be able to discuss the pregnancies.

“Great,” Hailey practically beams. “We heard the heartbeat! Jay cried.”

Kim laughs slightly. “So did Adam. I mean, so did I, but I cry at everything.”

At that, Hailey laughs too. “Kim, so does Adam. Not like you—but I wouldn’t say he’s not a crier. Jay—I’ve seen him cry, but, man, it was. It just hit me, this is the father of my baby. And it made me more happy then I think the heartbeat did. We were both raised by a men who never be seen crying but our baby isn’t going to have that. It was...it was wonderful.”

“I’m so happy for you. Congratulations,” Kim pulls her into a hug before quickly adding on, checking to see if Sylvie and Stella had arrived yet. “So come on, quick. How far along are you?”

At that, Hailey excitedly grabs her arms. “Yes! How could I forget! Kim, you’ll never guess—I’m also ten weeks along!”

Life, Kim thinks again, really does have a strange sense of humour.

A thought she once again thinks when Stella and Sylvie arrive and they make their announcement.

“We’re pregnant. Both of us.” They announce and Kim’s mouth drops open, and she realises they all ordered water instead of alcohol. She barely knows how to process this, Hailey squeezing her hand in shock under the table, but before she can, they’re dropping the next bombshell.

“Stella found out about a week or so ago, I found out earlier this week when I kept throwing up. We’re both around ten weeks,” Sylvie continues.

“No fucking way.” The words drop out of Hailey’s mouth, and judging by the way she gasps, holding her hands across her mouth, Kim guesses she didn’t mean them too. Kim tries to calm her down, widening her eyes at the blonde, but the other two catch on to that there’s something going on.

Kim sighs, after Hailey gives her the go ahead. “Hailey and I—we’re also pregnant. Ten weeks.”

Life has a strange sense of humour.

Kim doesn’t think there’s any mutual acquaintance in their lives who doesn’t somewhat doubt that the four couples didn’t plan this. If Kim wasn’t living through it, she’d scarcely believe it herself. Especially when they narrowed it down and are pretty sure all four pregnancies are the result of a faulty condom—condoms taken from Kelly’s infamous bathroom supply.

Kelly and Stella are self explanatory. They hadn’t used them in a while, but Stella was changing birth control and so they did. Matt and Sylvie a little bit less, but still less incredulous. Matt doesn’t live with Kelly and Stella anymore, but the guestroom—now a nursery—was still open to them any time, the boys having slight separation issues. And apparently when they did this, they’d just use Kelly’s supply.

Jay and Hailey had apparently ran out, and they hadn’t gotten more before Stella and Kelly hosted a night at theirs and Jay had apparently thought grabbing a handful from the supply would be a good idea. Hailey almost questioned her choice in man then, not that Kim could judge her.

Because on that same night, Adam and her were getting a little too flirty and when they realised they were feeling a little loud than they can be, with Makayla sleeping at home, they, in their wisdom, decided why not do it in Adam’s jeep.

And they didn’t have any protection, naturally, on them so Adam had grabbed a condom for Kelly’s supply.

And thus, all four pregnancies were made.

There are benefits, however, Kim would happily admit. Voight, maybe not, depending he’s down two members and another two when there’s doctor appointments. And with them being due around the same time, they’ll be a month he’s down all four, give and take. The unit—especially Kevin—might also not, especially on the days her and Hailey’s hormones and cravings and hated smells conflicted.

But there are benefits. Having your three close friends going through the same things is nice, especially when they could see if a symptom or something is usual—especially when one of the friends is a paramedic and the other’s brother in law is a doctor.

It also makes it more fun, all of them—the men included—having a light hearted race about who’s bump shows first, who kicks and moves first and so forth. It made the pregnancies that little bit more fun, even when it was miserable, even when doubts and anxieties about the upcoming parenthood loomed.

The biggest race, especially as the pregnancies drew closer to the end, was the competition and bets who will go into labour first, who will have their baby before the other.

But, of course, life has a strange sense of humour so, naturally, they all went into labour on the same day.

Stella had technically started the night before, her contractions beginning then. They were far and few in between so she was advised just to wait.

Kim’s had started earlier that morning. She had been woken up at the crack of dawn with back pain. Nothing too unusual at this stage of the pregnancy, but as Adam was helping Makayla pack her lunch for school, Kim’s waters had broke.

When Adam and her had gotten to the hospital, about to update the group chat, they had passed Stella and Kelly and the high five they had shared had raised some nurses eyebrows.

Childbirth being the thing that it is, they didn’t look at the group chat after that. Kim’s contractions were starting to come more frequently, and Adam had left the room to holler at the doctor—only to run into Will. Will, who raised his eyebrow at Adam, and asked if he was here for Hailey and Jay.

Because the one thing Voight joked better not happen, that he can’t be down four members, plus a fifth and the desk sergeant as they were determined to meet Kim and Adam’s second daughter as soon as possible, had happened and Hailey had gone into labour around midday.

Flora Leslie Severide is born first, at seven point six pounds. Her godparents had plans to meet her first, but they had got laid up with their own new arrival so the man who had been like a father to both her parents and his wife met her first.

Alice Trudy Burgess Ruzek is born second, at eight point seven pounds, a weight that got her father nearly cursed at. Her older sister was the first to meet her, shortly followed by their grandmother Trudy and godfather Kevin.

If you were to ask Kim who’s kid would come next, she would’ve guessed the Halstead’s son, but it wasn’t. Sylvie had gone into labour later than the others, but had a much faster labour, her daughter being determined to be born quickly, apparently.

And so, Estelle Kelly Casey is born third, at nearly seven pounds. Met first by her honorary grandfather, Mouch, already at the hospital to be with his wife and her godparents, with her cousin Flora sleeping, having been in the world a little longer.

And finally, Nikolas Patrick Halstead made his arrival, last but the biggest at nine pounds, met by his uncle and godfather first, but shortly followed by uncle Kevin, his godmother Kim and uncle Adam still occupied with his cousin.

Life has a strange sense of humour sometimes but—as Kevin joked—at least they can all split birthday costs with each other and not have to worry about their various aunts and uncles not being able to make it.

Not to mention how it made finding the balance between being new parents and having a social life easier.

And eventually, people stopped looking at them as if they planned this. That is, of course, until Sylvie and Hailey had their second kids—Andrew Casey and Theodore Halstead—at the same time, too.

#burzek #upstead #stellaride #brettsey #chicago pd #Chicago fire #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #I'm not gonna tag all the characters bc Sheesh #but i will #kim burgess #hailey upton #bc there's a lot of upgess moments #ree writes #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

'cause he really knows me

Summary: a series of thoughtful post it notes leads Kim to the realisation that her and Adam-- they belong together and that she needs to stop running.

Au of late season four/ and season five.

Warnings: Kim using her words and burzek being adorable :)

Word count: 1.9k

Read on AO3

Notes: HEY! I'm back with a new, albeit short, fic!!! But it's Valentine's Day and burzek are the most romantic destined to be together otp ever so ofc I had to post a fic about them being cute and a fix-it in honour of today!!!! Happy Valentine's to you all, all my wonderful Valentine's bc I love you all, and I hope you enjoy!!! ♥️

It started the week Adam got back from his undercover gig.

Kim had got in early that day, determined to do some paperwork so she was ahead, but apparently not as early as Adam had—unless he had left the note there the night before. She saw the note, scrawled on a yellow post it note, stuck to her best cop mug Zoe had gotten her when she got the promotion, as soon as she got to her desk.

It was simple, reading tip for you: ask Al questions. Even ones that you might already know the answer to, it endears you to him. He likes it when you’re keen to learn, and keen to listen.

Kim had unstuck it from the mug, smiling at the words, and the flutter in her heart it elicited in her. Adam hadn’t signed it or anything, yet she’d recognise his handwriting in her sleep. And even if she couldn’t, no one else knows Al as well as Adam does—especially when it comes to impressing the older man.

She was sure Adam had just intended for her to read it, and then throw it away but she couldn’t do that, instead opening up her draw and fishing out her purse, slipping it in so that she’ll remember to take it home to keep. Two weeks before, the thought of Adam and her being at the point where he would do something like this felt so far away, like there would always be an uneasy tension between them.

But then he came back, and they shared that kiss. And he went back to hers and they stayed up until two am talking through everything that had happened between them and they were on a better note, moving forward and afresh from everything that had transpired.

They didn’t talk about the note, the only acknowledgement Kim giving of it being squeezing Adam’s hand when she saw him later, giving him a smile, and getting a slight nod in return.

And nor did they talk about the second note that turned up two days later. This was much simpler, just a you’re doing great, Al’s actually smiling at you : )

It became a routine, every other day or so a note would appear on Kim’s desk scrawled in Adam’s handwriting. Ranging from tips to little things like you’re doing great or you’re brilliant or—Kim’s favourites—you look beautiful today.

More often than not, they met up to grab coffee before coming in, or Kim’s in first, so she was kept on her toes never knowing when the note will show up. Sometimes it would be left there the night before, or she goes to the interrogation room or go out with Al to track down some information and she would come back to one.

Adam’s not always in the bullpen when she spotted it, but when he was, Kim would flash him a smile. A private moment between them that lasted only a second, but one that weaved them closer and closer together.

When Kim came back after helping Nicole cope with the aftermath of her rape, she expected that the days of arriving to notes on her desk had long gone. The reignited connection that was being knitted between them again had been put on the back burner since she was been away, Kim busy with Nicole—and dealing with the doubt about her and Adam, if they could actually rebuild things, and the guilt of not wanting to burden him when he’s forgiven so much.

But Adam surprised her again. That first day back Kim was greeted by a yellow post, ur attached to her best cop mug, and considering she had just made it official with Matt after three dates her heart really shouldn’t have fluttered the way it did.

You’re going to kill this today, you’re a fantastic cop!

Kim had barely spoke to Adam about how nervous she was to be coming back, how nervous she was about if her ability to be a good cop had rusted over in the time she had gone, not wanting to put a voice to the thoughts that lingered in the dark shadows of her mind but she apparently didn’t need to for him to know.

Kim nearly messaged Matt that their budding relationship was over then and there, because who could ever match up to Adam—a man who did this for his ex who had barely spoke to him of late?

She had expected that to be just the message, the last one Adam would leave. Kim was more sure of herself as a cop now, and her and Al had a good rapport—and Antonio was her partner now. But it wasn’t. They took a more fun route, little pieces like a coffee for you : ) on a coffee cup left on her desk, or more interaction ones, like the noughts and crosses game he left on one but amongst those ones there was still the stray motivational ones, always coming when Kim most needed them.

Like the one she came in to see the morning after Matt and her broke up. On the classic yellow post it note, stuck to her best cop mug was the words you’re an awesome cop and there’s nothing wrong with putting that first, even over your partner—and it is worth it. You did the right thing for you : )

It was that note, and the way it made her heart flutter and made her feel airless, despite having an awful break-up the night before, that made Kim think this was it, that it was enough. No longer she should allow herself to run, to listen to the doubt within her mind, not when her heart had so clearly made it’s decision.

It was time to get back her man, and she knew exactly how she would.

It took Kim a few weeks to sort. There was the anxiety and doubt about whether she should that she had to fight off, and there was the more practical things she had to sort—getting the photos and copying passages from her diary, and talking to Herrmann about using Molly’s.

That was the thing Kim was most anxious about, but she didn’t need to: Herrmann’s inner romantic came up and he was saying yes before Kim had even fully explained anything. He even offered to help set up—Cindy also offering her services when she heard.

And so on the day, Kim, Herrmann and Cindy spent an hour or so getting Molly’s ready, a pool of nerves in Kim’s stomach. Her heart beat so fast, feeling like it was going to burst right out her chest, as she walked up the stairs to Intelligence, the note, which was pre-written, in her hand.

Having to spend the work day acting as if there’s nothing up, that the day was just an ordinary day was hell for Kim, almost as hell as dodging Adam’s curious expression he shot her way when he came in and saw the note she had left him—come to Molly’s after work ~ K x

Kim wanted to make sure as little people knew as possible what she was up to, not wanting everyone to know the rejection that she was worried was coming, but she had to also loop in Trudy, asking her if she could say she needs her so that Kim could get out of work before the others. Originally, she thought she would be able to give Trudy only the minimum amount of details, but one look from the desk sergeant set Kim straight.

Luckily, Trudy seemed to have a reaction almost exactly like the Herrmanns’, and she agreed easily to what Kim was asking, but also noting that if Kim was just up front with Voight about why she needed to leave early, he would’ve done it himself—as if that was the only issue as to why, not that there’s nothing that made Kim cringe more than telling her boss about her love life.

The time Kim spent waiting in Molly’s was practically agony, and it took nearly everything in her to not go behind the bar and grab some alcohol to chug from the bottle to help calm her and pass the time. Stopping only because that would be some way to chuck Herrmann’s kind gesture back into his face and she did not want to do this wasted.

When Adam got there, he opened the door so casually, strolling in like it was just another day at the bar. Understandable, Kim thought, considering he had no idea Molly’s wasn’t open to the public that night.

He faltered when he saw it wasn’t, and that there was only her in here. His expression was adorable, as he took in all the displays, the photos of them, the post it notes and the diary passages, and the romantic lights and atmosphere of the bar, and it melted Kim’s heart and drove away any of the remaining doubt.

“Kim?” His voice sounded as confused as his face looked.

“Hey, Adam.” Kim gave him a little wave, suddenly feeling very shy, vulnerable at her emotions all on display. But she took a deep breath and proceeded with her plans. She walked towards him, grabbing his hands and pulling him deeper into the bar.

“I wanted to tell you that I love you, that I want you—that I want us. But you... You, Adam Ruzek, you don’t deserve just a simple hey let’s try again; you deserve so much more. So I thought I’d show you how much I love you and I did this... A little exhibit of our love.” Kim gestured around the room.

“There’s all the photos we’ve ever taken and—and, uh, passages from my diary that ever mentions you. All of it, not just the good bits, but the bad, too. Because if we’re going to do this, we have to embrace the past, not just romanticise and erase all the past mistakes. And of course the post it notes, because god I love them so much. And because they’re what made me realise I want you—that I’ll never want, or need, anyone else because I have you.” Kim paused, taking a few deep breathes before finishing the speech she had prepared.

“Because you’re my heart, my soulmate. You complete me and match me and... We belong together. We’re not going to try again, we’re going to succeed.” Pause again. “If you’ll have me, that is?”

“Kim...” Adam’s eyes was glistening, a look of love and adoration on his face and all Kim wanted to do was close the space between them and kiss him. But she understood that he needed to make the move, make the decision. She had put all the balls in his court, laying herself open for him to see, and the direction they go in next is up to how he felt, what he was or was not ready for.

“Darlin’, that’s not even a question. Of course I’ll have you, this... This is all I’ve wanted to hear.” Adam closed the gap between them, his longer legs closing it so much faster than she would’ve, and then his lips were on her, kissing her like he’s never kissed her before and it was like the very first time and also the thousandth time.

And it made Kim’s heart soar to know that it’ll never be the last, never again.

#kim burgess #adam ruzek #burzek #chicago pd #kim burgess x adam ruzek #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

In defense of you (of our life)

Summary: Helen has spent quite a fair bit of her life running, of burying things down and right now, the urge just to turn on her heel and head back to her own apartment, texting Max sorry. But then, through the door, she hears Luna’s laugh and her heartstrings tug and she knows she’s not running anywhere—nowhere but Luna’s arms, that is.

Au of s4; a possible way that Luna's grandparents' find out Max has moved on, the move to London isn't a consideration.

Word Count: 3.1k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is my first (hopefully of many) sharpwin fanfic. One of the things I wish the show mentioned was how did Luna's grandparents' feel/react to the London news and that's kinda sent me on a tailspin of how they'd react to the moving on, ect. And I'm still a little upset we didn't get much out of them trying for custody bc that made me so pissed at them and well these factors combined and I came up with this idea. The grandparents may feel a little bit more dramatic than maybe they would be but I'm taking artistic license bc one) finding out this way would be a lil shocking and two) I'm still very annoyed at them for the custody thing. For the purposes of this fic, sharpwin aren't moving to London bc it just worked better like this.

Enjoy!!!

There are a lot of ways that Helen would’ve preferred to meet Gwen and Calvin Bennett, Luna’s grandparents’, her boyfriend’s former in-laws, her boyfriend’s late wife’s parents, but like this is not it.

In truth, she hasn’t spent much time thinking about meeting them. She knows it will have to happen sooner or later, and that it’ll be an unpleasant experience for all involved—with the exception of Luna—but she had just wanted to focus on the now, not wanting to think about herself of how she’ll appear to the Bennetts' eyes.

There, Max and her were in agreement. He didn’t want to think about it either, not that it had any reflection on how he saw her, he had made that clear. That his soft murmurings of them, of their future, of her being his future, he made the very first night they got together was true, was real.

But it’s a hard enough task telling your former in-laws that you’ve moved on without them being judging kind of people, and then there was the fact that he wasn’t entirely comfortable around them still after their play for custody.

Helen had initially tried to push him to tell them that he was dating and that it was serious, pushing aside her own feelings about it, but when he expressed all that to her, she backed down. Now, she wishes that maybe she hadn’t, or at least not completely backed down.

Because now, here she is, about to walk into Max’s place, and take Luna’s grandparents completely by surprise, alone.

Max had walked into her office not that long ago, greeting her with a soft kiss and a light rub across her shoulders. He was smiling, but Helen has known him too long to not know, immediately, that something was up, that he wanted something.

And that it wasn’t about the hospital. It wasn’t a crazy but inventive new idea, it wasn’t anything that she would need to help him retool despite no longer being his deputy. It was something personal, something about this life that they’re forging together.

“What do you want, Max?” She said with a sigh. And then he told her about the emergency in paediatrics and how he’ll need to stay late to sort that out—and no doubt avoid Brantley’s calls about whatever wild scheme he comes up with to fix it—and this means she’ll have to head home without him.

At first, she didn’t get it. This, unfortunately, happens when it comes to their work, and it’s not like she hasn’t picked up Luna from pre school and did tea time without him before; they—Luna and her—had gotten into the rhythm of each other, finding their own bond and connection that exists without Max there.

And then she remembered that Luna wasn’t at pre school today, that she was at home, home because her grandparents spending the day with her.

She had got it then, what Max was asking of her. That she has to go relieve the Bennetts’, introducing herself to them in the process, without him.

Max, to his credit, gave her the option not to.

He told her that he can call them and ask them to stay longer, knowing they’d agree but Helen shot that down. She knows how much he’s not giving them an inch, any chance for them to try and challenge his parenting again, and how they’ve also been striving to make sure that Luna has a consistent routine—that it doesn’t matter if they’re at Max’s or her’s, everything goes the same—and this would throw that off course, potentially undermining the progress they have made.

And, regardless of all of that, Helen missed her girl. Luna’s smile has the same affect at her dad’s, making her world light up and feel like the luckiest woman in the world and for that, Helen would face anything. Including Georgia’s parents.

Now, here, outside Max’s door, however, Helen feels a tight, restricting knot in her stomach. It’s easier said than done and she’s questioning her decision, questioning if she can do this without Max. All sorts of scenarios run through her head. What if she can’t get the words out? What if they refuse to leave Luna with someone they see as a stranger? What if they make a scene in front of Luna and it upsets her? What if this causes trouble for Max?

Helen has spent quite a fair bit of her life running, of burying things down and right now, the urge just to turn on her heel and head back to her own apartment, texting Max sorry.

But then, through the door, she hears Luna’s laugh and her heartstrings tug and she knows she’s not running anywhere—nowhere but Luna’s arms, that is.

Taking a deep breath, Helen inserts her key into the door and steps into the apartment. She barely has time to say some kind of greeting, or really even locate Gwen and Calvin—who are sitting on the sofa—with her eyes before a Luna sized hurricane barrels into her, throwing her small arms around her legs.

“Mum!” She exclaims, and Helen usually lights up at hearing Luna say that word, but she freezes for a moment now. Luna’s been going between calling her Helen and Mum, and while Mum—or Mummy, or occasionally mama—is becoming more frequent, she had naïvely hoped Luna would say Helen today.

Luna’s beaming up at her, a smile filled with such love and adoration, that Helen only freezes for a brief moment before she’s in motion again, picking up the two year old with ease; Luna squealing with joy as she does so. She’s dressed in the pink princess dress Helen got her—very much not what she was wearing when she left work this morning and she wonders if it was Max or Gwen who put her in it—and it makes her smile.

“Hey, baby. You’re a princess today, are you?” Helen can feel the Bennetts’ eyes on her, but she knows it’s more important to focus on Luna.

“Yeah! G’anma let me!” Luna enthusiastically nods her head.

It’s then that Helen turns to look at them. They’re standing now, and while it’s harder to read Calvin’s expression, Gwen’s is easier and it is enough to tell Helen that this is not going to be smooth sailing. Normally, Helen is incredibly good with parents; a skill very useful in her line of work, but she senses she’s met the exceptions to her Dr Helen charm.

“Hello.” Helen greets them, politely but with more confidence than she feels.

She knows an important thing to make sure is not to act like she doesn’t belong here, because she does, and she’s not going to apologise for that, and so while she feels like she should stand by the door until they give her any sign that she’s allowed to enter further in, she doesn’t. She places her bag down, and expertly manoeuvres to get off her coat without putting Luna down, since she can tell from previous experience that the girl doesn’t want that and there’s no way she’s doing anything to invertibly make Luna cry in front of them.

“Where’s Max?” Gwen’s voice is clipped, both of their eyes clearly looking Helen up and down with judgement. At her father’s name, Luna perks up, lifting her head from where she was resting it on the slope where Helen’s shoulder meets her neck.

“Dada? Where Dada?” She turns her head, realising that Max isn’t with them. “Mummy, where Dada?”

“Dada’s still at work, baby. He’ll be here later to give you kisses before bed, he just had to help some people. I thought we could have a girls only evening, yeah? Until Dada gets home.” Helen remembers the first time she was alone with Luna unexpectedly; she felt like she wasn’t doing anything right and that maybe Max would see she’s not cut out for this. But she got through it, and now there’s these moments, where Luna doesn’t cry or tantrum, she just nods, smiles, and snuggles into her.

“Girls only,” she parrots cutely. She then turns to her grandfather. “G’anpa go!”

Despite the tension in the room, all three adults has a little chuckle at that.

“Yeah, grandpa will have to go, because he’s not a girl, is he? But that’s okay, him and Grandma are going to go now—soon—they need to go back to their home!” Helen quickly amends her sentence, not wanting to appear to them like she’s kicking them out with no answers, knowing that could make a bad situation worse.

“I’m going to put you down now, sweetheart, so you can play while I talk to grandma and grandpa, okay?” Thankfully, Luna lets her do so with no issues, which is a relief.

“Something unexpected came up and Max had to stay at the hospital to fix it,” Helen answers Gwen’s question. She’s already answered it by answering Luna, but she knows she needs to answer Gwen too and knowing Gwen, being an adult, needs more explanation than Luna does.

“We didn’t want to keep you waiting, especially when it’s not necessary.” She pauses for a second, quickly working out what next to say. “It’s unfortunate that this is how you find out, we were planning on something a lot less sudden, but it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Helen.” She holds out her hand, ignoring that technically, they had met before. Once, briefly, at Georgia’s funeral and glimpses when they were knee deep with covid, and she caught Max face timing Luna.

“Helen. Let’s not beat around the bush, you’re not just Helen, you’re Max’s girlfriend, the woman who thought it okay to replace my daughter in her daughter’s life.” Gwen’s tone is harsh, the only lightness to it for Luna’s benefit so she doesn’t pick up on anything. The words, although somewhat expected, hurt more than Helen would’ve thought, just like the rejection of neither of them shaking her extending hand.

Gwen lets out a laugh. It’s bitter and dry, humourless. “You know, earlier, when Luna asked if she can wear the dress ‘mama’ got her, I—stupidly—thought it was just her toddler way phrasing of things and that it was a dress that reminded her of Georgia, of her actual mother, and that Max was actually making sure to keep her memory alive. How foolish I was.”

Helen’s cheeks burn, the words stinging. Gwen means them to, wanting to hurt and bring Helen down, and they do hurt, but a protectiveness stirs in her at them, at what they imply.

“Max does keep Georgia’s memory alive.” Her own tone is firm, certain. She didn’t spend so long watching Max grieve, seeing him adapt, seeing him tell Luna that Helen can’t be Mom because mommy’s in heaven, to have Gwen imply something different. “He’s a good father and would never erase Georgia from her life.”

She then takes a deep breath, preparing herself for her next sentence. She knows if Max was here he’d back her one hundred per cent, but he’s not, and Helen can’t help but worry that he’d hate what she’s about to say, as irritational as that is.

"And I am Luna’s mother. I didn’t birth her, but she’s mine—just like she’s Max’s, and just like she’s Georgia’s. And that doesn’t negate Georgia being her mother, either, Luna just has two mothers. And I know this is a shock and you’re going to have your valid feelings about it, but I won’t have you say anything like that, especially around Luna.”

Gwen goes to open her mouth, looking indignant, but Calvin rests a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Helen briefly thinks he’s going to be a voice of reason, but then she sees the look in his eye. “You work at the hospital, don’t you?”

The question takes her back a little bit.

“Yes, I do. Doctor Helen Sharpe, head of oncology and hema—,” She’s interrupted before she can finish.

“You were Max’s doctor.” Calvin states, before turning to his wife. “I remember Georgia mentioning her. She’s been on the TV. She’s the one at the funeral.”

Helen blinks. She doesn’t know why exactly the funeral was mentioned; they were all there, even Lauren, who was in a wheelchair still then, or why Gwen’s expression got even more stony at her husband’s words.

“Oh.” Is the only word Gwen says.

“Oh?” Helen repeats, her curiosity getting the better of her, even though everything in her tells her to leave it, tells her that this is a thread she doesn’t want to pull.

“You were the only one who Max hugged back and pulled Luna away from his chest to show her to.” Gwen explains. “We didn’t think much of it, and I don’t even know what to think of it until now. Now it’s clear what’s going on.”

Helen’s head spins. She never noticed that, although it makes sense in hindsight. Helen has always been one of, if not the only, people that Max allows himself to be vulnerable with. But she gets the impression that’s not the conclusion they’ve gotten.

“I don’t know—,” she begins, but Gwen cuts her off.

“Our granddaughter calls you mum,” the word is said with distain. “Max’s attachment to that place to the extent of not being on top of Luna’s care, it all makes sense. When did the affair start? Was our daughter even cold in the ground, or, even, did it start before she passed away? Or, god, were you the reason he took the job in the first place?”

Helen tries to remind herself that these still are, technically, grieving parents and they just got new information dropped on them in a rather unorthodox way, but anger bubbles up in her. For Max, being thought so little of. For herself, for being accused of being of such an unsavoury character. Even for Georgia, to have her parents’ doubt that she wouldn’t know if her husband was unfaithful. And finally, for Luna.

Luna.

Helen’s eyes turn to look at her daughter, still innocently playing on the floor, not noticing that something is up. Helen’s heart twists.

“Luna, love,” the blue eyes she’s inherited from Max looks up at her. “Lets take you to the bedroom, yeah? Wanna sit on Dada and Mummy’s bed and watch a movie on your iPad?”

Helen scoops Luna up in her arms, taking her little girl away from her grandparents, setting her down among the pillows on the bed and helping her set up the movie.

“What’ll it be? Frozen?” Normally Luna wanting to watch the movie would drive her a little insane in her mind, but this time Helen doesn’t mind, knowing it’ll capture her attention fully. “Here you go, my love. You watch that, my little princess,”

Placing a soft kiss on top of her head, Helen exits the room and heads back towards the Bennetts’.

“Your granddaughter, my daughter, calls me Mum because that’s who I am to her, and I am so grateful and happy that’s the role she and Max views me as." She settles first, firmly.

"And Max is always on top of Luna’s care. He singlehandedly raised her, alone, while dealing with his grief. He didn’t check up on the hospital at all when he was at Luna’s check-up and thought there was something wrong and I wasn’t even his deputy at that point. He sent her to live with you during covid for her safety despite it killing him every day they were apart, he even was willing to let her stay longer because he was so scared of her getting ill. And he even entertained the thought of what if you two were what was best for Luna during your frankly ridiculous and ill-thought out plea for custody even though it’s completely obvious to anyone who sees them two together that he’s who is best for her. He’s an excellent dad, the kind of dad I wished I had because he will fight for that little girl through everything.” Helen lists off, taking a slight pause to allow for her not to run out of breath before continuing.

“We did not have an affair, and it is insulting to both of our characters to even imply so. He took the job for the same reason he has an ‘attachment’ to it—because he’s a good man who wants to fix a broken system and you honestly should have all the respect for him because of that; he’s making the world a better place for Luna to grow up in and that is truly admirable. He’s a good man, and you should appreciate that because that’s why you even got a second chance to be in Luna’s life; a dad who neglects her care wouldn’t think twice about the stunt you pulled. I’m not sure I’d be so generous. Now, I would please like you to leave. You can go kiss Luna goodbye, and then you will go. I need to get her tea on and I no longer want you in my home tonight.”

Helen makes sure to keep her tone level, and her breath even. She’s shaking inside, she knows, but outside she’s cool as a cucumber, applying that mama bear Dr Sharpe Lauren says she has when it comes to her stubborn patients and their families.

She sees something in their faces, and for a moment she thinks they’re not going to do as she says, but then they turn and do exactly as she told them too. Quickly giving Luna a hug and a kiss bye and then gathering their things and exiting the apartment without making eye contact with her.

Once the door shuts behind them, Helen’s shoulders slump down and a breath she didn’t know she was holding in is let out. Feeling like a weight has been lifted, tension realising from her muscles, she kicks off her shoes and goes to join Luna on the bed, curling up with her to watch Frozen.

Her little girl smiles brightly and happily at her, snuggling against her side and letting out a content sigh and Helen’s body relaxes. It wasn’t easy, standing there and justifying her role in Luna’s life, in Max’s life, especially when there are days where she still feels like she’s an imposter, that she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to leave her, just like she’s always been by everyone else, but this, here, steals away all that tension, all that adrenaline running through her body, immediately relaxing her muscles in ways not even the best masseuse could.

This—Luna and Max—they’re her family, they love her, they want her, they chose her, and Helen’s never known more joy than being allowed to be a part of their life.

Helen knows this is far from over, that they’ll be more things that’ll bring that tension back, that there’s still unfinished business with Gwen and Calvin, but for now, she cuddles her daughter and watches Frozen, waiting for the other half of her joy to come home to them, to his family, knowing there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

#sharpwin #new amsterdam #helen sharpe #max goodwin #helen sharpe x max goodwin #luna goodwin #new amsterdam fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Happiness

Summary: It's Kim's and Adam's wedding day, and as Kim waits for the time to meet him at the church, she reflects on all the times before she knew this would be her future.

Just a lil introspective fic. Not exactly canon compliant since this is a very self indulgent fic and so the miscarriage never happened, but the adoption of Makayla still did.

Word Count: 2.3k

Read on AO3

Notes: It is officially a year since my lovely wonderful Cíara and I first started messaging each other in our dms and started this incredible wonderful friendship and sisterhood that we have forged. Naturally, I wrote a fic to celebrate. It's introspective and shorter than I would've liked, but that doesn't stop it being jam packed with all the lovely and wonderful things we love to self indulge in!!! To my @fighterkimburgess , I hope you enjoy this and thank you for being my chosen family. I love you so incredibly much and I always will. 💕

“When did you first know this is what you wanted?”

No one can accuse Makayla Ruzek of not asking the most complicated of questions. Kim has already answered her daughter, two days ago in fact, but the question still lingers in her head, ringing in her mind, repeating it on a loop.

It’s not a question that has a simple answer. And Kim made the mistake to asking Makayla a follow up question, asking for more clarification.

“What do you mean, the wedding or wanting to be with Adam?”

“The first, but now, both.”

Makayla had wasted no time at all taking the extra question and adding it on, quickly scribbling a note of it in her notebook, her pink pen with the fluffy top bobbing as she did so. Kim should know by now that any attempts to make her life less complicated when it comes to her ever inquisitive daughter always ends up making it worse for herself—especially when the said inquisitive daughter has been given a assignment that essentially gives her permission to unleash that inquisitive nature.

Kim loves it, she does, wondering if being an investigative journalist is in her eight year old’s future, and she loves nurturing that sense of curiosity and feeding it, but that doesn’t stop her seeing the very few downsides.

Like being asked when she first knew that she wanted to marry Adam, when she first knew that she loved Adam.

It really wasn’t a simple answer.

Adam and her had known each other for ten years now, and had been in and out of various types of relationships with each other in that time. And each time, there was that moment.

Which one does she choose? The one most recently, when she saw Adam hold their new born baby daughter for the first time? Or the very first one, when they were young and when everything was so new, and Adam made her laugh after a really shitty day at work, before lifting her up and fucking her into oblivion, so that all she could think about is him, his smile, his taste, his warmth?

Okay, so maybe that last part was an obvious no as an answer to her daughter. Makayla’s already had enough trauma to last a lifetime; she doesn’t need even more.

But it’s an answer that floats to mind now, as Kim stands in Trudy’s bedroom, staring at her own reflection in the mirror, both captivated and in disbelief of the beautiful white dress she’s in.

She has loved Adam for so many years now, never fading, even if sometimes she’d have thought it waned. And this is a day she had wanted, had desired and yearned for, for so much of her adult life. She had known, and loved, Adam now for longer than the years of her adult life she had spent without him—and she had hoped, had wished, that one day she’ll have spent longer in his arms then all the years she spent without him for so, so long now.

So long that it’s surreal to look at herself in the most beautiful, perfect wedding dress, her hair beautifully styled, her veil clipped in and know that soon, this is what Adam will see as she walks down the aisle to him—that she’s his bride.

This is something she first envisioned years ago, when Adam first proposed to her in the locker room after a day she spent thinking that he hated the thought of working with her. The ring used then sits on her finger now, and it looks like it belongs there just as much as it first did. If she didn’t know better, Kim wouldn’t think it hadn’t spent so many years sitting in a box, saved only by Adam’s sentimentality and not wanting to really, truly, admit that they were over.

But she does know better.

And that’s what plagues her now.

When did she know this is what she wanted, that she loves Adam more than she ever thought was possible to love someone, and that she wants to spend the rest of her life with him? Can it be all those years ago, when she handed back the ring in the same place he gave it her? When she doubted his character and everything she knew about him because of an emotionally manipulative partner?

When they hadn’t grown all the ways they needed to grow before making a commitment like this? When she hadn’t learnt to not just bury her feelings deep down and then push him away, and when he hadn’t unlearned all the damage his gambling addict father taught him? When they hadn’t learn the power of communication?

Can she even say that she had the knowledge to even actually know—and understand—what wanting this was about?

If she didn’t know then, what about when Adam came back from undercover and she saw him for the first time again? That the affect Roman had on her had worn off, and she had made several realisations about herself, and she realised that she shouldn’t have thrown Adam away, and that she wanted to slowly fix things again?

If you asked her then, Kim would’ve said of course she can envision them getting married in the future—but hindsight is everything, and how can Kim say that was when she knew when she allowed herself to get scared again and ended things before they even began?

What counts as her first knowing? Does it even have to be at a time when they were even together? Because those months after Al had died, where months before they spent sleeping together until they didn’t, where Adam began spiralling after loosing his father figure, loosing the man who was more like a father to him then Bob was.

After loosing the man who, if she was being honest, was more of a father to her than her own. After loosing the man who should be at Adam’s side right now, the honory father of the groom.

When Kim saw first hand how bad he was doing, and how she wished more than anything to be able to take away his pain. Even as he resisted her help, even as they fought and dated others, refusing to acknowledge that they were each other’s loves. Even as it got worse and they were fractured after Bob was revealed to be dirty, but got his skin saved, and they fell out because Kim didn’t understand why Adam still stood by his side.

Or can it be the moment that Kim scarcely admits to herself, the guilt even now feeling too much. That Adam was so needed and helpful to her in those moments after Blair died, that he was there for her despite the fight they had months before. The guilt had pulled her from him, Kim cursing herself for even thinking romantic thoughts about him when Blair was barely cold, but those thoughts were there.

She could argue it was when Adam had just gotten out of prison, and they were hanging out again and getting closer and closer. That those moments before Alice, her precious, beautiful daughter, was conceived that was like falling in love with him all over again.

But then could it, when they found out about Ally and that just set them further back? That sorting out how to do all that, how to co parent, how to decide if they should be together or not made a future like this feel so far away, made it feel like a future that was not in the cards for them?

There was the good moments, however. When their set up was working, when her pregnancy hormones was driving her crazy and horny and he met every single need of hers without ever making her feel like a burden. When Adam got the embarrassing experience of telling their boss that, no, they don’t need the disclosure papers, that it’s still just sex, after too many times of Adam coming back from his lunch break from seeing her looking too ruffled, his shirt buttons oddly done up and Kim nearly pissed herself laughing at him telling her that.

And then there’s the moment Adam held their new born Alice in his arms, staring at her with such love and awe, like he couldn’t quite believe that she was finally here, and that she was his. That moment made all the horrible pregnancy symptoms and the pain of labour ever so worth it, and made her know for absolute certainty that she couldn’t have a better man for the father of her baby.

But raising a baby is such hard work, especially when communication still hasn’t been perfected. There were times where Kim wanted to just tear out her hair, to scream, to give up on things- on them, even when they weren’t trying to work out how to advance forward.

The day Kim decided to take Makayla in, without consulting Adam, and told him she knows this is going to mess up their parenting, that she knows doing this might mean they’ll have to adjust living arrangements, that they’ll need to have a custody agreement for Ally and he just shook his head, telling her that he supports her, that him and Ally aren’t going anywhere, that they can take in Makayla together, as a family; that was a day Kim attributes to being the start of the beginning, the start of this. Of them getting back together, working through their issues and overcoming them, finally becoming the family they are now.

That’s when she should’ve known. That’s the answer as a parent she should give, that she knew as soon as Makayla completed their little family. And it was, it was. But it was in the same way all the times before was; the only difference was that it didn’t backslide like all the times before, that nothing nagged at her mind that maybe Adam wasn’t the one for her.

That her love and her want for their life, their family, only grew in all the adversities they faced next. Like when Bob was making his life hell, and Adam finally choose himself – chose his family – over the father who never put him first and Kim was so proud of him for that.

Or when Roman rocked back into town, and saw her with two children who didn’t look like siblings, or ones with the same father, in his closed mind, and he made a comment about knowing she’d be stupid enough to get knocked up by two different men and Adam didn’t hesitate in punching him.

Nor did he hesitate in comforting the children after, apologising to them for seeing that, seeing him lose his cool and to make sure they still felt safe and secure in their family without them even needing to express and distress; just yet another example of how in tune Adam is with their children.

Another example that was shown when Kim was kidnapped and nearly beaten and shot to death, spending months in recovery, and Adam never let the children feel like they should be worried, that they felt safe, and loved while also making sure she could be a mother, that her recovery didn’t take away all her independence.

The truth of everything, Kim knows now, is that their relationship – this magical thing Adam and her have—it can’t just be quantified to one moment. Love is like that in general, never just reduced to oe moment – not even when it comes to your kids, because you love them from the very first moment but then there’s moments they first smile at you, or you stop them crying for the first time, or the first time they have no nightmares, or call you Mom.

But her and Adam? Their love was the stuff of legends, true soulmate love, from the very beginning. But their journey is rocky, intense and complicated and she can’t choose just one moment because they simultaneously are all the moment, while not being, because the very first moment her heart knew was that very first moment they met, that it met it’s pair, it’s soulmate, even if her brain wasn’t told.

“When did you first know this is what you wanted?”

“What do you mean, the wedding or wanting to be with Adam?”

“The first, but now, both.”

“Your father was one of the first people to truly believe in me, and to love me. I made an impact on his life, and he on mine, and I love him so much for that. It took us a long time to get here, because love and life are complicated, but I love the journey, and the family we have made together and everything we’ve ever been through had been worth it for this. So to answer you, I knew from the very first moment he believed in me, that very first moment what we’d one day have shined through. And I never could’ve predicted this outcome, but it always would’ve happened because it was fate. It’s not about knowing when I wanted this, because this—Adam, our family—it’s where I belong.”

Kim had thought that perhaps her answer was a diplomatic mom answer, a simplistic way of breaking down the many ups and downs of their relationship, ones that her eight year old knows about but can barely start comprehending.

But standing here now, waiting for Trudy to come and tell her the car is here—the car that will take her to the church to marry the love of her life in—searching her mind for that moment she knew and being torn over the many possible answers, Kim knows it wasn’t just that.

It was the truth, it is the truth.

And it doesn’t matter when that moment, or moments, was; what matters is how her heart feels now. And her heart wants Adam, wants to be married to Adam, because – as she said to Makayla—it’s where she belongs.

#burzek #kim burgess #adam ruzek #chicago pd #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #kim burgess x adam ruzek #Cíara tag #ree writes #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Betrayal

So I've been talking a lot (especially with @fighterkimburgess ) about how Hailey was in the wrong, and that the team would feel betrayed by both because of how much Kim is struggling. And particularly Adam, because Voight has been a father figure to him, Kim is his love and Hailey is one of his best friends. And i just had to get this lil drabble out.

"Sarge, you know, you're like a father to me."

Hailey pauses before she turns the corner, hearing Adam's voice. It's made up from a mix of sounds she's never heard in his voice before. Of anger, of defeat, of something that sounds so broken and lost, and so protective.

"I did what--" Hailey tenses instinctively at the sound of Voight's voice, but Adam is cutting him off before he can speak much.

"Sarge can I just talk? Please?" There's a pause and she wonders if voight nodded.

"You, you've done a lot for me. I'll always appreciate it. You've been more a father to me than my actual dad and you've taught me so much. But, this? I know you keep things close to your chest, I know you like to keep everything private, especially to protect us. But you saw how Kim was. I went to you to talk about it. We discussed it. I know she had to disclose her diagnosis. You saw how she was struggling. And… you could've told us, that's all I'm saying. You should've told us. We would've kept the secret and it would've done so much for her-- for us."

Adam comes to the end of his sentence sounding so defeated.

"I'm not saying I want to leave this unit or anything. I'll still follow your orders. But, I'll admit it, I don't look at you the same anymore. Not just because of Kim, but Hailey? She was struggling too, we could've helped her." There's a pause and Hailey can almost imagine Adam's stance, head tilted, shoulders down. "You should've told us."

Hailey then hears the sound of footsteps now and she ducks away, not wanting Adam to see her.

It's not five minutes later, however, that she's seeking him out in the locker room.

What she and Voight did all came out recently. her love life is a mess-- Jay saying he's booked an emergency appointment with his therapist so he can process this before they discuss where they stand-- and her work one isn't much better. Hailey doesn't think she could ever get the way Kim looked at her, or her quiet, hurt words of "you said no."

She isn't sure she can forget the way Adam looked at her either, betrayal rife in his eyes.

Kim… Hailey will understand if Kim never forgives her. And she thought that Adam never would either, but from what she overheard, the words he said to Voight, she wonders if she's wrong. Adam is her closest friend, the next person after Jay who she trusts the most. Having him hate her would feel like a loss of part of her.

But she walks into the locker room optimistic, ready to apologize and begin the process of moving on.

"Adam," He's sitting on the locker room bench, head down. He looks up, and that look of betrayal is still in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she begins but Adam doesn't let her get much further than that.

"I'm guessing you heard Voight and I." He always could read her well. She smiles sheepishly.

"Yeah…"

"Well don't think it means anything. I'm still upset with you. You should've told us too. You… You fucked up, Hailey. We all care about you, you could've reached out at any point. And… I confided in you. I told you about my anger towards this whole Roy situation, and you didn't say anything. Voight should've told us and he should've told us to check in on you. That's two ways he fucked up, but you did too." Adam's voice is calm, collected. His words are one of betrayal and anger but he keeps in out of his demeanor, and even with what he's saying, Hailey appreciates that.

"It's Kim. Kim. She… you know how I feel about her. You know I can't stand to see her suffer. You get this, I thought you got it more than anyone because you're the same with Jay. But.. We'll be okay, maybe, one day. But right now, no."

Adam rises then. "Now, if you excuse me. I have to go pick Kim up from therapy and help mend the pieces from the damage your actions caused."

With that, Adam leaves the room, and Hailey feels the emptiness she's left with deep in her heart. Without even thinking about it, she gets out her phone, taking a deep breath as she types trauma therapists in Chicago into the browser.

She'll do anything to make things okay again, to make things okay for the very first time.

#adam ruzek #Hailey upton #chicago pd #Chicago pd fanfic #cpd spoilers #<- technically #it's technically also got hints of burzek snf upstead but i won't tag it #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.drabbles

[kim-ruzek]

Messy, chaotic perfection

Summary: Family isn't just who is blood, but who is in your corner, who makes you feel loved and cared for, who is safe and who is home.

Season 8 au, goes off if Kim never miscarried, Burzek are together, and season eight still went somewhat how it did.

Warnings: mentions of canon events (shooting, foster situations).

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a Feel Better fic for the amazing, incredible and so, so strong and brave Cíara (@fighterkimburgess ). Cíara I love you, you deserve the world, and you deserve to know that I (and all of us in this fandom) have your back and wish you all the best in your life ♥️

Life can be unpredictable, events that you never expect to happen can occur and feel like that was always meant to happen all along. This is a lesson Kim has learnt over and over throughout her life, but one she’s only finally beginning to fully understand it, that it’s always going to happen in ways you don’t expect.

Like today.

Today, when she woke up, Kim thought she’d have a tiring day at work with all the racists that Kevin, and by extension them since Kevin is their family, is having to deal with but that it would be relatively drama free and she and her boyfriend—which is a word, that no matter how juvenile it sounds, makes her feel all giggly inside at—would come home and have a nice relaxing evening with their daughter.

She didn’t expect Patrol to not show up when they called and she definitely did not expect Adam to get shot. But that is life, as Kim has kept learning recently.

“Careful, let me grab the door.” Kim quickly darts in front of a very impatient and unfussed Adam, moving so she can unlock and open their front door before he can. Adam sighs.

“Kim, I’m not an invalid.” He grumbles and she flashes him a glare before she opens up the door.

“Adam, you were shot.” She holds up her hand. “And no I don’t care if it’s was in the vest. You were shot and you were lying there and I thought you were dead. And now you’ve got a bruise on your chest and Will said that you have to take it easy—it could affect your lungs if you overwork yourself.”

Kim already knows that she’s probably going to spend the next few weeks seeing Adam lying there on the grass whenever she shuts her eyes. Just like she knows that Adam gets why she’s being so fussy, even if he’s being his typical bad patient self.

“I can still open doors. You know I like opening our door for you,” At that, Kim turns away from the door, facing Adam. She closes what little distance they had between them, resting her hands gently on his chest.

“I know, but you’re injured. Let me look after you. And—we’ve only just found our way back together again, I don’t want to loose you, and I don’t want our daughter to loose you.” Adam’s eyes soften and he gently kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m just stubborn.”

If this had happened years ago, this probably would’ve ended up making an even bigger dent in their relationship, and god knows if they’d be able to communicate—and truly understand each other back then. But they’re not those young people now, they’ve grown and learnt so much, and are completely dedicated to making this work.

Especially because they’re parents.

“Hey, Ally!” Adam is immediately greeting their six month old as soon as they enter the flat, Kim not far behind, the two parents cooing over her instantly.

“Can you hold her?” Trudy gives Adam a wary eye, holding the child she, without hesitation, claimed as her granddaughter. Normally they’d have their nanny here, taking care of Ally, but given that Adam was shot and had to be looked over, Trudy had relieved their nanny instead, just in case they arrived home later than usual.

“You’re as bad as Kim, of course I can,” Adam grumbles again, mostly with good humour. Still, Trudy glances at Kim just to double check, who nods and then Trudy is helping to pass the girl to her father. Usually, Adam would scoop the girl out of her arms with ease, but—showing that he is taking Will seriously, or at least their daughter’s safety seriously—he had hesitated, waited for Trudy to help.

“You should sit down, I’ll get dinner on.” Kim tells him. She then looks at Trudy. “Are you staying or going home? You’re welcome, of course.”

“I’ll leave the three of you be. Randall has his shift in the morning.” Trudy kisses her granddaughter good-bye—leaning down to do so, Ally babbling in Adam’s arms on the sofa—and then it’s just the three of them.

If you had told her a year and a half ago that this would be her life, Kim would struggle to belief you. Adam and her felt like history, something that never had the timing it deserved and that they’d only be relegated to friends with benefits.

And being a Mom? That was so far out from the cards Kim was dealt, she didn’t think it would happen for quite a few years, and even then, it felt like a impossible and distant thought.

But she has both. A relationship with Adam that is strong and decent and a proper, communicating relationship and the beautiful daughter who made it possible.

At first, Adam and her were determined to be co parents only. More her than him, if she was honest, but he understood her side.

But then Kim hit her second trimester and with it her renewed sex drive and inability to keep her hands off him and platonic co parents got more and more unbelievable—especially as they moved in together.

The reasons why they decided to just be platonic still hung over their head, however, and so they had to have a serious conversation—several, in fact—about their relationship and what it would look like and be like. They both knew that with a child in the mix, they had to be committed and determined because their baby would be impacted.

Kim did have worries about it, about if they could keep communicating and not fall back on old habits, but by the time Ally came along, their relationship had only grown stronger. The new-born stage is a tough time for parents, and they had their moments, but that only brought them even more closer and Kim now no longer has any of those worries.

Domestic bliss is something she’s always wanted to have, alongside a fulfilling job, and there’s days Kim can’t quite believe that she’s found it.

Her life isn’t perfect, no life is. And there’s tensions at work, and with their best friend going through some horrific stuff, life doesn’t feel easy. But they have each other, and they have Ally, and Kim keeps feeling like she’s reached as close to perfection as she could have.

When she was younger, Kim imagined that having perfection would be calm, would be peaceful. And maybe for others it is, but it’s not for her. There’s always some madness in her life; she’s a cop, after all. And she’s learned to appreciate the short peaceful moments that she gets. But sometimes, sometimes life is just quiet.

It had been a few weeks of quiet that Kim had realised her life hadn’t had any madness in it. Her and Adam were just going about their routine, day in, day out, watching as Ally continued to grow and marvel them and she realised that.

And then she knew instantly that the madness was coming.

It came the next day.

Adam and her had just picked up their morning coffee from a coffee shop. It had been a while since they could, usually having to make do with the district coffee—having a baby means time is precious and money is dear—but they did this morning, the two of them in a good mood and having a ridiculous conversation about boats.

And then there was a lost six year old girl walking through the road.

Everything got a lot more busy after that, as they tracked down her family and worked out what had happened.

Being a Mom has definitely changed Kim, and she had to go into a corner—Adam joining her, wrapping his arms around her—and have a little cry in the locker room. All she could think about her daughter, her Ally, loosing her family like that and it activated the still distantly present hormones leftover from her pregnancy.

And it made her more determined to help the little girl, Makayla, especially when the girl had apparently bonded to her. Kim was told that she was the best person to talk to her, and even though she’s a mother, she had doubted her abilities. There’s a difference between her baby who’s just learning to talk and move about to a traumatized six year old but the doubts were misplaced, Kim managing to get that connection.

Makayla had wanted her to come to the safe house with her, which Kim did. Luckily Adam was by Trudy’s desk and he gave her nod, telling her that Ally and him will be okay. Still, Kim was glad that she’s already had a night away from her daughter so that she could go with Makayla, so that she didn’t have to let down this vulnerable girl who needed her just as much.

The safe house had turned out to not be so safe, and Kim’s mama bear instincts—as Adam has affectionately coined—kicked in and she instantly said she’ll be taking Makayla home, no questions.

Of course, she had glanced at Adam, silently checking with him. Adam had nodded again.

“Ally’s already with her grandparents so yes, Makayla will be staying with us.” Adam had immediately supported her, his voice just as firm and decided. Kim had already worked out Ally was with Trudy and Mouch, as he was there and they are their emergency babysitters but she felt so lucky to have a partner who was willing to not have the night with his daughter for what she wants.

Seeing Adam interact with Makayla that night had made Kim’s insides twist, and she wonders if they might end up accidentally conceiving a second baby soon with how his paternalism stirred feelings inside her.

It left her feeling sadder than Kim would’ve thought to say goodbye to Makayla after everything was sorted, an emptiness in her heart. The girl had made an impact on her and it felt wrong to end the story there.

That night, Kim had hugged Ally close to her, Adam arm wrapped around her as he cuddled up to them.

“I think I want another,” Kim had said, and Adam choked. She had laughed, then, careful not to wake the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Not now or anytime soon. One baby is enough at one time. But in the future. This—us—being a family, it feels right and as perfect as our family is, I want it to be bigger.” She had explained. She’d have been nervous, but this is Adam, possibly the only person she knows whole heartedly that she can be herself, no judgement.

“Darlin’, nothing would make me happier.” He had kissed her temple firmly then, lacing their hands together and Kim got that feeling of perfect domestic bliss again.

“I’d say let’s have another right now but, yeah, one baby is enough. Although we could practice?” He then joked and Kim rolled her eyes at him.

It isn’t that long after that they’re at social services and Kim spots that precious six year old who, if Kim is honest with herself, hadn’t left her thoughts since, every few days Kim wondering if she’s okay, if she’s settling and adjusting and if the cousin Cathy would need to call her.

“Kim!” Makayla immediately runs to her, hugging her and Kim’s heart twists and constricts, warming at the gesture but breaking that she’s here.

They’re in the middle of a turbulent case, a case that plagues Kim, but her mind is still spilt, focused on worrying about Makayla.

“Where were you?” Adam asks her when she gets back from Cathy’s. Kim knows that she should’ve told him before, that going off alone like this when in a relationship and a parent isn’t how she should be behaving but as the couple’s therapist they went to say said, sometimes Kim can have tunnel vision. It’s something she’s working on, but sometimes she reverts back, like when a six year old needs her.

“I went to see Makayla’s Cathy.” Kim then tells him, and she tells him all about it.

“What if I take her in?” The words fall out Kim’s mouth before she can really process them. It’s nothing she should say, not just for the reasons Makayla’s social worker lists. But because Kim isn’t an I anymore. She’s in a relationship and she’s a mother. This isn’t just her life, but she can’t get Makayla—or the bond they have—out of her head.

After the conversation with her social worker, Kim sees Kevin. She wonders if she should ask him about this, about his siblings and that decision, knowing that he’ll have value to add to the conversation, especially as a black man. But she stops herself, knowing that she’s getting that tunnel vision again, that she needs to discuss this with Adam before she spirals too fast.

“I want to foster Makayla.” It isn’t the most tactful conversation, or the best place for it. But Kim’s mind is in overdrive and all she can think about is how she could feel at six, feeling like only Nicole loved her, and about that precious girl, and her own daughter.

“Us. I want us to foster Makayla.” Kim quickly amends, because they’re a team. Everything they do, they do together. They’re entwined and interlinked and the only way to make the relationship successful is by accepting and respecting that.

It’s a long conversation. It’s really not the time or place but that’s something that just doesn’t matter as much as talking. Kim tells Adam all about why she does, and he talks about how he feels. That he gets it, that he would want to give her a home just as much but has she thought this through.

They work out if they want it to only be temporary, how they’ll do it with Ally, if they’re ready and if they’re only doing this because they’re adapting to being parents, parents who often felt unloved as a child.

And they grab Kevin, adding him to the discussion, getting his two cents.

And then they come to a decision—that they should take Makayla home and they’re jumping into action. Kim calling the social worker, Adam arranging for Ally to be at her grandparents for the night as they get Makayla settled.

Everything picks up after that, quiet days rarely a thing even more than before.

They get Makayla into school, sets up their home so it feels more like hers, they get her into therapy and family therapy. They introduce her to Kevin, knowing he will have to play an important role in their foster daughter’s life.

Makayla adores Ally from the first time they meet, treating her with such care and love and Ally immediately bonds to her. It fills Kim with such joy and affection, and makes her heart feel so, so soft.

Kim was worried that them having Ally already would make Makayla feel like an add on, but it has the opposite affect, making her feel more like part of the family—two weeks in, Makayla tells Kim that she always wanted a little sister, and Kim’s happy that she may not have been able to save Makayla’s family, but at least she could do something.

It’s not smooth sailing. It’s tough and it’s work. Nights were hell, Makayla waking up screaming and rousing Ally, but it gets better, especially after they get Makayla trouble dolls. It’s an adjustment, for sure, but it’s fulfilling.

For Adam too, who’s taken to calling Makayla his lil darlin’ and all three of them his girls. Kim already knew he is a great dad, but seeing him dress up and play with Makayla, and being so calm and loving through her trauma just reaffirms that over and over, making Kim feel so happy that she gave them another chance.

Makayla is family long before the adoption going through.

Mack is one of the first words Ally says, reaching for her sister as she did so. Kim—and Adam, as they discussed it later—will never forget the utterly joyful grin that had spread across Makayla’s face at that.

“Ally said my name!” Makayla had exclaimed to them happily, and proceeded to tell everyone she saw over the next week, her excitement and joy never waning.

Trudy and Mouch immediately accept Makayla as another grandchild and the rest of the family treats Makayla like she belongs. Kim never had any doubts, but it warmed her heart to see how much Makayla clearly loved and was taken by it—and how it made her feel so much more settled, knowing she’s gained so much family even after loosing so much.

Sylvie takes it upon herself to be her honorary godmother and Makayla quickly learns that Sylvie is one of the best to play princesses with. Stella comes with Sylvie one day and Makayla is immediately enamoured by her, and soon Stella decides Makayla needs two godmothers.

The Atwaters are an essential part of their family, as they help Makayla keep that connection to her black culture, helping to make sure her identity doesn’t get lost and that she doesn’t feel like she has to pick sides between her old and new life.

Makayla and Uncle Kev have a day every month, just them, doing whatever they want. It’s not even about doing anything relating to their shared skin tone, but just a routine to establish that Kevin is there for her.

Jordan takes to Makayla quickly, as well, finding her cute and endearing. He tells them that she reminds him of Vinessa at that age, and quickly starts calling her his little cousin—another thing that Kim knows helps makes her feel like part of the family.

Makayla loves her ‘big cousin', Jordan often teaching her age appropriate jokes and helping her play harmless pranks. He also teaches her some dance moves, and laughs with her when she tries to teach Adam them, who fails spectacularly.

Jordan loves Ally as well, having seen Kim as part of his family for years but Kim knows that they’ll never have the bond that Jordan and Makayla have, and it’s something that makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside—that Makayla with have things that’s just hers, that she won’t ever feel like she’s in her little sister’s shadow. It’s important, Kim thinks, and she’s glad of it. Makayla is no less her daughter than Ally and deserves to never feel like she is.

Makayla is family before she is legally, before she’s adopted into a family who barely has any blood in common anyway. But the day the adoption goes through is a joyous day for all of them.

“I love you.” Makayla has said it to them before, and more to Ally. But that day she says it and it’s louder than a shy whisper but firm and sure and Kim can’t help getting teary eyed as they hug her, assuring their daughter that they love her too, so much.

“Thank you for wanting to be my mom and dad.” Makayla says that night, so earnestly and Kim tears up again, Adam too. And nothing has ever felt so right. Kim knows she’ll never replace her mom, and she doesn’t want to, and she knows that Makayla might not ever call them mom and dad but they are and Makayla sees them as that and it feels so right.

“We’ve got two daughters.” Kim giggles against Adam’s chest that night, when everyone is asleep.

“That we do. And we got to skip the baby stage so we could get our two daughters straight away,” Adam replies, referencing their conversation from the night Makayla went home with Cathy. Kim laughs again, cuddling against her fiancé—as of a week ago.

Life is unpredictable. It’s messy and chaotic and full of madness, and Kim’s learnt and accepted that. And life is wonderful and amazing, and not despite of that, but because of that.

Two years ago, Kim would not see herself like this. In bed with Adam, her fiancé, their two daughters sleeping and feeling like she’s got the most perfect life. And it’s all because life is unpredictable.

Kim used to think that perfect meant calmness. And then she thought that can’t be her life, because she’s choose a mad and crazy life, a life not designed to be calm. But as she lies in bed that night, Adam cuddling her, Kim knows that’s wrong.

Life does mean calmness, but not because her life is quiet and calm, but because it’s messy and chaotic. It’s messy and chaotic and it’s hers. She has all what she ever wanted, fulfilled in all areas, and it doesn’t matter if it’s unpredictable because that’s the beauty of it.

There’s such a peace and calmness inside of her, an ease that has been brought on only by the messy, imperfection and unplanned events of her life—and that’s what makes everything feel perfect; perfect within the chaos.

#burzek #chicago pd #kim burgess x adam ruzek #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #Cíara tag

[kim-ruzek]

she drew in her first breath out of what love meant

Summary: But when she stood, Kim felt a flood of water and her eyes widened, as she quickly realised what had happened. That the pain wasn’t just back pain, that the Braxton Hicks was actually contractions. Having get so caught up in the possibility that her baby will be a bit late, Kim just accepted that this was fake labour signs.

Kim and Adam's daughter makes a slightly unexpected appearance. Set in an au of s7, where Kim never miscarried rice grain.

Warnings: Childbirth.

Word Count: 1.4k

Read on AO3

Notes: Yesterday, I became an aunt again to the most beautiful niece in the world (seriously, everyone. She is adorable. No, I am not biased, I am just being objective and stating the truth). And so, I'm fully in my baby feels, and what better way to celebrate her appearance with a burzek fix-it fic.

So this is her welcome to the world fic. Her brothers got artwork, but she's getting a more mentally stable aunt so I think she wins. And in a way, I'm happy it isn't the crack fic I'm going to write 🌸🌸🌸

Enjoy!

Everyone said that it’s not often you get pregnant on birth control.

Everyone said it’s not often exes can be friends.

Everyone said it’s not often you can be comfortable co parenting and sharing a home with said ex.

Kim has been greeted with surprise and almost pandering tut tuts when she explained about her and Adam all through this pregnancy. She had almost came to expect it. Which is why, when the doctor said that it probably won’t do anything, and that only a few women actually ever have their water break naturally, and that women tend to have their first baby late, Kim really should’ve expected that she’d be one of the exceptions.

They had gone to the doctor early that morning. Kim is edging closer and closer to her due date, Alice being more and more active inside her. The doctor wasn’t too concerned with thinking that she’ll go into labour soon, repeating that first babies tend to take their time. Kim was fine with this. She’s uncomfortable, yes, big and feeling very much like she’s going to explode. But as the due date drew closer, she was becoming more and more emotional at the thought that her daughter wouldn’t be inside her, that she couldn’t protect her like that anymore.

On the way home, they stopped to grab—extra—breakfast, Kim being hungry again and Adam can always eat. Alice was making herself known, kicking and turning, Adam resting his hand on her belly whenever they were stopped in traffic, a smile on his face.

Kim was beginning to think that maybe people were right about one thing, that maybe they won’t be able to co parent. Not platonically, anyway. His smile twisted something in her and all she wanted to do was stroke her fingers across his jaw.

She settled for just entwining her hand with his.

The pregnancy, seeing their daughter grow inside her, preparing for her arrival, it has brought them closer. Especially when the hormones hit. There has been moments when the air between them is filled with that tension, the love between them palatable. But they’re not crossing that line.

In a very unlike them sort of way, they had the conversation about it. Both agreeing that they can see them doing this, having a relationship, being a couple raising their baby. But communication and keeping together has never been there strong point, Alice being why they’ve only just started to be successful in that way. And mixing up a baby in their problems, it’s not something they want to do. They were both messed up by their parents and the one thing they want is for Ally to be okay.

So they made an agreement to wait, to reassess when Alice is here, when they’ve got past those first months where even the strongest couples can fall apart in.

It doesn’t stop them absent-mindedly seeking each other out most of the time, always looping their hands around each other and cuddling on the couch and playing with each other’s hair. It doesn’t stop them, when Kim’s hormones turn to a hundred, from being intimate. And before Kim got so big, before sleeping is so uncomfortable for her she can barely stand having the cover on her, let alone another warm body lying beside her, it didn’t stop them from sleeping in the same bed.

They’re just friends, having a child, and are very much in love with each other.

It was after they grabbed the extra breakfast when Kim’s back starting to ache. At this point, she’s used to having aches, so she just tried to adjust herself in a more comfortable position.

Adam had noticed and when they got home he told her just to be comfy on the sofa, so that’s what she did.

The back pain was persistent, and Kim started getting her Braxton Hicks again. The first time she got them, Adam freaked out and called Sylvie—the blonde very patiently explaining it to him again. Now, Kim didn’t think to tell him, them being used to this, instead just ran her hand over her belly.

They had a few visitors stop by, to say hello to Kim now she can no longer go up the stairs to Intelligence. Jay and Hailey were first, then Trudy. They asked Trudy to be their daughter’s grandmother and she had already taken the role to heart. Mouch, too, being their baby’s honorary grandfather. He didn’t come to visit with Trudy, being on shift. Then, finally, Kevin came, Jordan accompanying him.

The Atwaters stayed longer than anyone else, but then they also had left—it once again just being Kim and Adam. And then it was just Kim, Adam getting the message that something they ordered for the baby was in the shop.

The pain in her back had tripled in intensity, and Kim found herself having to get up, needing to walk a little to see if that would help. She thought she’d walk to the bathroom, having to need to pee like she always does now.

But when she stood, Kim felt a flood of water and her eyes widened, as she quickly realised what had happened. That the pain wasn’t just back pain, that the Braxton Hicks was actually contractions. Having get so caught up in the possibility that her baby will be a bit late, Kim just accepted that this was fake labour signs.

Adam left, saying he’ll be back within the hour. Kim had been prepped that labour is long, and even though they had been told to hear to the hospital if her water broke, she waited for Adam to be back. She could’ve called him, but she didn’t want him to rush and get into an accident.

It’s only an hour, Kim had thought.

And forty minutes later, Kim kneeling on her bathroom floor, in intense pain, she regretted that thought. Because of course this would happen. That on top of everything, apparently Alice wanted to make a quicker appearance.

“Hey, darlin’! I’m back,” Adam calls to her and she could’ve cried in relief that he’s finally here; Kim had left her phone in the living room when the contractions hit, hard.

“Adam!” Kim calls back to him, not caring how urgent and distressed her voice sounded. Adam was instantly in the bathroom.

“Kim? Kim, are you okay?” He says as he gets there.

“I’m in labour,” She tells him, although as she looks at his face, she can tell he’s already gathered that. She must be a mess, on the floor, hot and sweaty, crying. But he doesn’t look like he’s even bothered, the shock fading fast and he’s leaping into action.

Adam kneels beside her, softly stroking back her hair, laying a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’m here now.”

After her comforts her, indicating for her to take his hand as another contraction comes, Adam is fishing his phone out of his pocket, calling for an ambulance. Kim’s too far in to even bother wondering if he can drive her, that it’s better for Alice to come in their bathroom with towels all around them rather than in his car.

Although, both would prefer if she didn’t come before the ambulance.

It’s two minutes later Adam’s phone lights up with a text. We just got the call to your address!! Is Kim alright?

It reassured Kim—and Adam, really—that Sylvie is the paramedic who’s coming, them needing that familiar face at this scary, new time in their lives.

Kim’s labour was painful, intense, but short. Alice appears before the ambulance does, Adam and Kim staring in wonder and amazement at their new born daughter.

Adam made a joke that he’s glad he bothered Sylvie with so many questions, as he expertly wrapped up Ally, hugging Kim as she hugged their daughter. She’s still connected, and Kim still needs to deliver the placenta, and luckily it’s only two minutes later when Sylvie is here, and they greet the paramedic with a smile.

“Your goddaughter was a little impatient,” Adam says to her and Kim smiles at him, nosing into him slightly as she does it, love in her heart.

“Just like her father.” As if to prove that point, Adam leans down and gently kisses her, not caring what they agreed or that Sylvie is there. All that matters is them, is Alice, is the love they share; the love Alice is born into.

It isn't the perfect birth story. But nothing about their story was, imperfect relationship, imperfect conception, imperfect family. And that makes it all that more beautiful, that despite the imperfections, it is perfection without a doubt.

That Alice, and the love that surrounds her, love pure, whole and unselfish, is what defines that, redefines what it means to love, to live, their daughter the perfect amongst the imperfections.

#burzek #adam ruzek #kim burgess #kim burgess x adam ruzek #chicago pd #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Kim, the victim

Just a 9x2 spec fic that's way too indulgent depending we're hated so much. But I just had to. ~800 words.

“She’s fast asleep,”

Kim looks up as Adam re-enters the living room. Kim’s sitting on her sofa, back propped against a pillow, enabling her body to just rest, not worrying about holding up the sitting position herself. Two weeks was perhaps not the best amount of time before going back to work, not when her injuries haven’t scarred over, and her body still aches, but the brass doesn’t allow for long wait times before making your mind up, and she had to see if she still had it.

The aches were worth it, worth it to experience the thrill of solving a case, the thrill of slipping into another skin to bring justice to the world. Worth it for her to know that her place is in the field, not behind a desk.

Still, Kim appreciates the way the pillow supports her, the way her body cries in relief for the rest.

Adam’s changed into her pyjamas, now, placing the clothes he was wearing on the chair before taking a seat on the sofa next to her with a sigh. The TV is on, quietly playing some show that Kim’s not even watching. She doesn’t look at Adam as he sits down, her eyes fixing on one of Makayla’s coats, still hanging off a chair from where Adam put it earlier.

It was an emotional, draining day for both of them. Adam being worried she’s pushing herself too much, trying to assure her that taking a desk job, if she needs to, isn’t quitting or giving up. And Kim trying to see if she’s still got it, all while trying to push aside the worries in her brain.

They clashed, and at the end of the day, when she says she’s staying in Intelligence, staying in the field, she had expected... She doesn’t know, maybe some friction, him expressing an opinion opposite to that. But he just nodded at her.

“Okay. That’s... Good decision.” He had said before moving on, “Let’s get out of here, go home to Makayla.”

After she was discharged from the hospital, Adam had stayed with her at home, sleeping on the couch. A good thing, really, since there’s so many things she can’t do, or rather so many things she needs a lot of rest in order to do. And Kim can’t ignore how his presence has kept her daughter calm.

He’s taken it in stride, their evenings filled with him cooking them dinner, and getting on the floor to play with Makayla since she can’t. Of grabbing her a pillow quickly when she needs support to help Makayla with her summer project.

Of tidying up everything so Kim can keep doing Makayla’s routine with ease, that she can put her to bed and not have to do anything else.

Adam’s always been in tune with her needs, that’s not surprising. What has kind of taken her by surprise is how he’s in tune with her daughter’s, too. That he can immediately tell when she’s getting frustrated or upset with the things that kids do, that he’s helping her so that Makayla can just be.

Kim doesn’t know why seeing Adam behave like how he is with her with Makayla too has hit her so hard, but it has.

When she came out of Makayla’s room after putting her to bed, she came into a cleaned living room. Adam had then gone to get changed, Kim sitting down, all this on her mind. And for him to come back, having peeked in to check on her daughter...

It’s not just Kim’s body that is aching from the day’s events, it’s her mind. The realisation of how close she was to death still plagues on her, the way she’s so scared still, the way when the car backfired for a moment all she could remember was getting shot. That she managed to cope through the day, but it still weighs down on her.

After work, she was going home to Makayla, going into her mom mode, yet again coping through. But it weighs heavily now, now she’s just Kim. Now she’s just Kim, the survivor. Just Kim, the victim.

It’s silent between her and Adam, them just quietly sitting there and then Kim’s letting out a sob, a gasp type one, and she’s reaching for Adam.

He takes her instinctively into his arms, carefully positioning her so she isn’t hurt, wrapping his arms around her, making her feel protected, making her feel loved, making her feel safe. Making her be able to just be Kim, the woman who nearly died only two weeks ago.

Today has taught her that she can still be an active cop. Today has taught her she can still be a mom. And today has taught her that in order to do that, she needs to be Kim, the victim and that she can be that around Adam, in Adam’s arms.

#burzek #kim burgess #adam ruzek #chicago pd #Chicago pd spoilers #ree writes #ree's.writing #rees.specfics

[kim-ruzek]

The courthouse

Just a quick lil drabble, introspective spec fic for 9x14

Kim has been in court many times. She's a cop, she's been a cop for years now and had to testify in more trials than she can remember.

Trials in which her testimony could be the difference between sending a dangerous criminal to jail or letting them back onto the streets because the jury didn't like her attitude. The prosecutors drill into you every single time how important it is in court to keep your cool, to not show any weakness to the defense that gives them room to weasel into the jurors hearts.

It's nerve wracking, on those days and the ones leading up to it. Young rookie officers stuck on traffic duty tends to have a rose coloured view of court days, days of being paid to do nothing but talk about the scumbag you're putting away. But it's not like having a bank holiday from school days, it's being very aware that you are a very important cog in the justice machine.

Kim has stood in front of a court house, has sat in court terrified out her wits. She's sat in court, in her own trial, and felt like this was the most scared she'll ever be inside a court room.

But as Kim stands in front of the family court, her fear out does all those previous times before. This is the one court she never thought she'd be scared of-- the one court she'll never have to be in.

And yet, standing here, Kim would trade ten criminals being out on the street over her daughter being taken from her.

#kim burgess #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #spec fic #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.drabbles

[kim-ruzek]

Girl Crush

Summary: This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

Or; at the end of 3x23, Sylvie doesn't go home with Roman-- but instead with Kim. And gets the fucking she deserves.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. This is just my excuse to give Sylvie the orgasm she deserves and the one she clearly did not get with Ratman. And so there's also Roman bashing bc Roman is trash.

Word Count: 4.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: For @gilbxrt-blythe bc Abby started™ something in my mind on Sunday, thus leading me to writing this all yesterday bc,,, our girls deserve so much better than Sean Roman and this fandom needs more wlw content. Let's save our darling girls!!

Someone’s hooking up tonight.

Chili’s words go around in Sylvie’s head all night. Largely, she ignores them—or rather, tries to—just focusing on the beer she’s sipping faster than usual and the joyous atmosphere in the bar but there’s those moments it creeps into her thoughts.

Her PIC is right about one thing, the thing she said about volcanoes. The firehouse has been so tense of late and she can tell that a weight has been lifted off them, and Sylvie thinks that’s quite like a volcano. But she—perhaps, stubbornly—refuses to admit Chili might be right about the hooking up part.

If anyone was to know Sylvie’s thoughts, know that she’s trying, more vehemently that she should, to deny that, they question why. To which Sylvie would just claim that it’s because she hates gossiping about her co-workers, people who are her friends are family, and that she doesn’t like speculating on their sex lives.

Sylvie even tried to insist this to herself, not that it works. How can it when she can feel her toes curl slightly at the thought of just... Throwing everything to the wind and just enjoying some pure, unadulterated primal ecstasy. That she finds herself subconsciously looking around the bar, as if she’s trying to find a suitable candidate.

She has always felt the weight of her friends’ turmoil so heavily. Empathetic to the core, her father said, when he grinned at her becoming a paramedic, telling her it’s what she was born to do. She likes it, she does. She likes caring about those important to her, to care about anyone who’s a decent human—and even those who aren’t—but it gets tiring, feeling the weight of their unhappiness on her shoulders.

It’s not even like she was directly wrapped up in the drama going around in the house, but it was so intense—a volcano getting ready to burst. And something tells her that she won’t be able to shake it off with just getting drunk amongst her friends.

“Hey, Brett,” Sylvie looks to her left, seeing Sean Roman slip into the seat beside her. The paramedic smiles at him, ever polite, turning so she’s more face on to him. He was close to her before she shifted, and she thought that would be annoying, if he wanted to converse.

Only, Sylvie quickly gets that he doesn’t have talking on mind.

The patrol officer is quick to close the space between them again, shifting himself and resting a hand on the back edge of her seat. She could get away if she wanted, but it gives off a certain trapped vibe, a vibe that shows exactly the kind of intentions Roman has.

There’s a twist of uncomfortableness in her stomach. Roman is sort of attractive, she guesses, although she doesn’t know if she’d fully trust her taste in men yet; there being too many wrongly stacked choices compared to the right. But even if he was the hottest specimen she had ever seen, there’s something off putting about his approach, leaving her with the impression he doesn’t want her to move away from him.

But there’s that volcano inside her, wanting to explode, and the alcohol is already coursing through her veins, so despite the sober parts of her brain metaphorically screwing up its nose at the officer, Sylvie doesn’t attempt to move again, instead leaning on her arm, interested in whatever he has to say.

“I’ve got a few more interesting stories like that, if you want to hear more?” Roman smiles hungrily at her, his eyes making her feel like a piece of meat. He had just finished telling her an amusing story from patrol and she gets the impression that’s his hook, and that now he’s trying to reel her in.

“The bar’s a bit loud, though. So we should go back to mine,” There it is, the beginning of the reel. He’s looking hopeful at her, and there’s an attempt to look appealing, sexy. It doesn’t work, but Sylvie finds herself shrugging, thinking that she could do a lot worse that Sean Roman.

“Hey, Sylvie. Roman.” Before she can agree, Kim appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

The brunette is on the other side of her, her arm lightly touching her as she greets them. In a way, Kim is affectively penning Sylvie in like her partner did, but it doesn’t make her stomach twist in that same uncomfortable way. There’s some meaning to that, she knows, but she doesn’t bother to reflect on what.

“Hey, Burgess.” Roman seems irked. He’s looking at her rather rudely, and Sylvie doesn’t like that. She cares about her friends and Kim is one of her first Chicago friends who doesn’t work with her. So she grins at her a little wider then she already would, wrapping her arms around the other officer.

“Hey, Kim!” If Roman picks up on the pointedness in Sylvie’s tone, he doesn’t let on.

“Hi,” Kim smiles at her again, repeating a greeting before continuing and Sylvie must be a little more tipsy than she thought because her mind is immediately drawn to how pretty Kim looks when she smiles. “Chili had to leave early and asked me if I could drive you home instead. She said sorry, but there was a cute guy who she needed to know a bit better,”

Sylvie knows instantly that Kim is lying. Chili asked no such thing, considering she wanted to get absolutely wasted tonight and had no intention of driving herself home, let alone Sylvie. This lie is an anchor, a get out of jail card, a bailout. For who, she doesn’t know—doesn’t think that she’s too drunk to need it, but she takes it anyway.

“Oh, she promised she wouldn’t!” Sylvie goes along with the lie Kim has spun. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,”

“Eh. It’s no problem.” Kim shrugs her off with a wave of a hand.

“I was actually about to leave myself. I can take Brett, you can just relax. That way I can continue telling her some patrol stories,” Roman inserts himself back in the conversation but Kim has no patience for him.

“We’re partners, I can tell her the stories. C’mon, Sylvie, let’s go.” Kim gently encourages Sylvie up. There’s a disappointment at not being able to expend all this tension away, but girl code is more important, and girl code is telling her to go with Kim.

“We have to walk around the block—I don’t actually have my car, so we’ll have to call a taxi.” Kim tells her when they leave Molly’s, arms linked. Neither of them are anything more than tipsy, but Sylvie finds herself giggling at her words.

“Then why did you drag me out? Was a guy bothering you?” She asks.

“Oh, trust me, I did that for you. You’d regret that so much tomorrow. The guy’s my partner and all, but he... I was on patrol with his ex. Going there—that wouldn’t give you any sort of satisfaction.” Kim explains, and Sylvie widens her eyes, giggling again.

“Really?” The irony of Sylvie spending the evening denying that she cares about gossip saying this, leaning in with intrigue, is not lost on her.

“Jenn didn’t say anything outright but... I asked why she got engaged so quickly and she expressed that he—her fiancé—is very talented with his tongue, if you get what I mean. I inferred the rest. A man who won’t eat out his girl is not a man worth your time.” Kim says very manner of fact, and Sylvie laughs at it, the brunette joining in shortly after.

“It’s the truth!” Kim insists through her laughter. They’ve walked around the corner, now, Kim quickly dialling for a taxi through her laughs.

“My ex fiancé never did.” Sylvie confesses when their laughter died down. Kim lifts an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never. He said it was disgusting. Didn’t stop him wanting me to suck him, though.” Sylvie can’t help the bitter edge to her words, thinking about Harrison and thinking about how she could waste her time on him. Kim, evidently, thinks the same.

“Life is too short for those kinds of men.” Kim says. Her words are assured, confident, just a statement and Sylvie just hums in response, thinking that Kim probably never wasted years like she did.

“Hey, Sylvie. I don’t mean that like... You deserve so much better.” Kim picks up on her sudden drop of mood. “I don’t know why we lower ourselves for arses like that, but you deserve so much better. Better than people like Harrison and Roman.”

“So do you—if your exes never..?” Sylvie quickly adds on and Kim lets out a snort.

“Oh yeah. I’ve dated my fair share of arseholes.” She nods. “I don’t know why they’re like this. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how anyone could want to fuck you and not completely worship you.”

This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

It deepens Sylvie’s blush.

The air between them immediately shifts, and it feels almost so natural, Sylvie finds herself questioning whether the air always felt this thick and charged. The air is heavy, and there’s this certain kind of electricity between them; an electric energy of sorts that reminds her of when she was eighteen and her friends and her caught a ride into the nearest big town and snuck into the club—and of Sylvie waiting outside for her friends after and sharing her first—and only—kiss with a girl.

“That’s cos we’re women, though? We know what we want.” Sylvie tries to push all those thoughts aside.

Tries to ignore what she feels building in the air—because surely, it’s just in her mind? Just because she was thinking about throwing caution to the wind and having a night of passionate, explosive sex—and tries to not focus on how pretty Kim looks, how she looks like she’s the best and worst decision she could ever make wrapped up in one.

On how Kim is looking at her with such intense eyes, almost hungry eyes, eyes that says she wants to be one of those men.

“That’s not just why. I wouldn’t just eat you out until you come screaming because I’m a woman, I’d do it because I want to make you come undone at my doing—like you deserve.” Kim’s words sends pulsating throbs through her body, and she can feel herself getting turned on, her body feeling like Kim has just found the secret code to her with just her words. Sylvie stares at Kim, with shock.

“You... I... What?” Sylvie splutters, unsure of what exactly Kim is saying.

“I’m just saying. You’re hot, Brett. I can see why Roman tried.” There’s a pause. “I’m not trying to ruin our friendship. Tell me if I’m wrong, that I’m not picking up on some things and I’ll shut up and just get you home. But if I’m right, I’ll fuck you right.”

“I...” Sylvie is facing Kim dead on, now, the space between them feeling like too much, electric and heavy. It’s dark, the only light being the street lamp. But it catches the side of Kim’s face, lighting it up in such a pretty way and it stirs something deep and primal inside her.

The dark, positively hungry eyes Kim is looking at her with doesn’t help, either. It’s not like earlier, with Roman, it doesn’t make her feel like a piece of meat. It makes her feel like she’s the world’s most precious delicacy and that Kim would give her left arm just to get a taste.

“You’re right.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Kim is closing the space between them. One of her arms slips around the blonde’s waist, pulling her flush to her, the other gently resting on the bend of Sylvie’s neck as she kisses her.

Kim’s lips are soft, her touch gentle. The kiss starts off slow, although Sylvie wouldn’t have thought it with the way her body immediately responds, aching and her heart beating. But then Kim deepens the kiss, encouraging her mouth to open wider, slipping in her tongue. Sylvie responds eagerly, her arms wrapping around Kim, practically grabbing hold of her so she can return the kiss more fiercely.

If this was a preview into the abilities of Kim’s tongue, Sylvie doesn’t think that she’ll have to work her long before—to use Kim’s words—Sylvie’s coming undone at her doing.

When the taxi arrives, honking it’s horn on the two, busy kissing each other like they’re the only people in the world, the alcohol running through their veins and their and respective tiring days edging them on, making them so filled with want for this, they pull apart, out of breath, chest heaving.

They share smiles, little light-hearted giggles as they pull apart, climbing into the taxi. Kim opens the door, grabbing at Sylvie’s hand as she does so before moving swiftly out the way so she can climb in first.

They don’t make out in the taxi. They’re not even jammed up too close together, their bodies just turned towards each other. They are close enough for them to still have their hands interlocked, although it’s more like their arms at places and for their feet to lightly tap at the other’s, playing a footsy kind of game but they’re friends, they shared a taxi before, they’ve even had this ease of physical contact before.

Sylvie would almost wouldn’t be able to tell that the line between friends and lovers had been blurred for tonight, if it wasn’t for the electric energy between them, from how Sylvie’s just waiting until they can get back to hers, and how whenever Kim moves her fingers up and down her arm, gently running against her skin, it feels like little shocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to yours,” Kim says as Sylvie leads her up the stairs. They’re deviating between holding hands and not, joking around as they make their way. Sometimes Kim’s spinning ahead of her, their hands dropping from their grip, and sometimes Sylvie is.

“We have only known each other a year and we have busy jobs.” Sylvie points out. Kim sticks out her tongue playfully and Sylvie has to stop herself from capturing it, and kissing Kim again. “This is me.”

Sylvie goes in first, opening her front door and placing her keys in her pot. Kim follows, and Sylvie watches as the brunette kicks off her shoes immediately, shrugging off her coat. For someone who’s never been here before, Kim fills the air with a confidence and it only fuels Sylvie’s need, her own confidence as the volcano erupts.

With a swift kick, Sylvie shuts her door and then her hands are on Kim, pulling her close. She grabs her hand, stopping her from moving further away from her, pulling her to her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Hm,” Kim moans against her, kissing her with a casual, yet urgent force. The melodic hum is tinted in amusement, and she pulls away briefly, to Sylvie’s disappointment. “So, we’re going straight to this? Aren’t even going to ask if I want a beer?”

Her words are said in an amused tone, but Sylvie still finds herself blushing, cursing herself slightly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Do you—” She’s interrupted by Kim kissing her.

“You’re so easy to tease. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to drink. Eat, maybe.” Sylvie goes to panic again but then she sees the glint sparkling away in her eye and she blushes, getting the play on words.

“Hm, well there’s only one thing on the menu if you’re,” she pauses, “Hungry,”

Sylvie could swear that Kim licks her lips but then the brunette is kissing her again and all thoughts go out of her head, the only thing on her mind being the taste of Kim and getting her to her bedroom as soon as she can.

Neither of them are determined to disconnect from one another for long, not even in the interest in getting to her bed unscathed from injuries. Kim hits into the sofa and Sylvie nearly trips over something she left on the floor, but the two stay touching, kissing each other hungrily and needily.

Sylvie would love to say that she savoured the moment Kim took off her top, but any clothes removed is done hastily, urgently, the clothes feeling too much, too intrusive. All Sylvie can do is give Kim a quick, appreciative look over after she tosses off her top.

Although, she thinks, that could do more with that Kim then helps her get her top off, and rewards her with her lips on her neck immediately after.

“There,” Sylvie manages to gasp out, pointing at which door is her bedroom’s, as Kim pushes her up against her wall, attacking her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. She’s going to have a mark there tomorrow, but tonight, tonight she doesn’t care, just tilting her head aside for her to have more access, her hands just grabbing at Kim as she does so.

Despite the urgency to get this far into her apartment, Kim has apparently decided they don’t need to finish the stretch right now, focusing on kissing along her collarbone, back up along her neck and jawline, stealing kisses from her lips before heading back down. She doesn’t go too far down with her kisses, but it’s enough to send Sylvie’s mind haywire, especially when she brushes along with her teeth.

All Sylvie can do is grab at Kim’s hair, the other hand resting on her waist, running up and down her back with her nails and moan at the kisses, grasping at her. One of Sylvie’s legs loops around Kim’s in a kind of way, pulling her lower body closer to her own, in the perfect place for Sylvie to grind against, needing to alleviate some tension.

It’s only when Kim’s hand snakes away from it’s current position and runs along the waistband of her jeans, deftly undoing her button and slipping inside does Sylvie gasp, pushing at Kim slightly. Kim’s hand is still cold from the cool Chicago night air, and Sylvie can feel the cold as Kim runs her hand against the cotton of her panties, lightly brushing over her throbbing clit.

“Bedroom. Kim, bedroom,” Sylvie gasps.

“Hm. Impatient, are we?” Kim grins at her, and Sylvie can’t help comparing it to a wolf looking at it’s prey. The brunette is so sweet and kind, Sylvie never would’ve guessed that she was like this—so confident and devious—in the bedroom. Or, rather, the hallway. But Sylvie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim steps away from Sylvie then, and she immediately misses the warmth of her body, and her hand's presence from where it was so close to where she wants—no, needs—her. She’s going into Sylvie’s bedroom, beckoning the blonde to follow.

Sylvie is starting to rather feel like putty in Kim’s hands, and she’s never been a passive participant in her sex life—well, except when she lets men (Harrison) rule how she should be—and she’s not about to start.

She follows Kim on through, and she already has an advantage knowing the layout of her bedroom. Sylvie’s hands are on Kim again, and she’s leading, practically pushing, Kim to her bed, the brunette having no choice but to lie down on it, Sylvie immediately straddling her.

“Not a very good cop, are you?” Sylvie teases her, and when Kim goes to protest, she grinds down slightly, knowing exactly where it’ll cause friction. It has the desired effect, Kim moaning, her eyes fluttering shut slightly. Her hands are resting of Sylvie’s hips, and they go up then, stroking at the soft skin of her stomach.

“Bra, off. Now,” Kim says, running a hand along the edge of the bra. Sylvie grins wickedly at her, wondering why Kim ever thought she still had the upper hand, to doll out an order.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Sylvie shifts down Kim slightly, resting more weight on her own kneeled legs, allowing for Kim to sit up. The brunette clearly thinks it’s so she can help Sylvie with the bra, but Sylvie catches her hands, stopping her, and instead undoes Kim’s bra.

Sylvie’s never been intimate with a woman like this. There’s been those dreams—day dreams and actual dreams—that she spent a while trying to ignore, and thinking she’ll never act upon. But she’s never, physically, been with one and whereas her confidence has gotten her this far, she falters as Kim takes off her bra.

There’s that hesitation, that hesitation that she wants Kim—needs Kim—that this is exactly how she wants to explode tonight, but there’s that knowledge that she’s inexperienced in this, hitting her as she’s confronted with Kim’s naked chest.

“Is this too much?” Kim picks up straight away that Sylvie is having a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, turning concerned. “We can stop or just make out. Whatever you want—consent still applies with two women, y’know, and I won’t mind.”

Sylvie looks at her, Kim’s voice so gentle and caring, her big, brown eyes only filled with concerned, and something inside her throbs and Sylvie’s hesitation wears off as she realises that there’s nothing to be intimidated by, and Kim won’t mind if she has to guide her a little.

“Nah, I’m just taking your beauty in.” Sylvie jokes, before adding more seriously, “This is exactly what I want, Kim.”

“Good.” Kim smiles. “Because I’m feeling that we should even things here.”

Sylvie should’ve know that Kim would take off her bra as soon as she could, the brunette raking her eyes greedily over her body. She grabs at Sylvie’s thighs, positioning her in a way that she can sit on her and they can kiss with ease.

Kim doesn’t spend long kissing her lips before she’s travelling again, her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back as she kisses down her neck, collarbone, going between kisses and nips. Sylvie tries to adjust herself so that she can kiss the dip of Kim’s shoulder as she does so, but Kim tries her hardest to stop any attempts, not wanting to be restricted in her own explorations.

When Kim’s mouth gets to her chest, she pauses. Sylvie has barely any time to wonder what will happen next when Kim’s hand is palming one breast, making her gasp in surprise. The brunette lifts her mouth from her body, instead taking advantage of her agape mouth, kissing her deep. And then she’s moving them, laying Sylvie down, shifting who’s winning this lustful game of cat and mouse they’re playing.

Kim doesn’t straddle her like Sylvie did earlier, just making them vertical, Kim between her legs. She’s squeezing her breast again, and then her mouth is around the other’s nipple, rolling her tongue around it, and Sylvie lets out a loud moan she’d almost be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so good. Kim works her like this for god knows how long before switching.

And then Kim is once again pulling away and Sylvie pouts, to Kim’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kim coos at her. “I’m just taking off your jeans so I can fuck you with my mouth.”

Sylvie never knew hearing Kim swear could sound so hot.

“Your jeans too. I was you as naked as I am,” She doesn’t know how she still has brain power to compose thoughts, focused so much on the needy ache in her body.

Kim steps off the bed so that she can shimmy off her jeans. Her panties match the bra she was wearing and Sylvie couldn’t even describe how much that made her desire spike. She wonders if Kim was working today and if she changed before going to Molly’s—curious to know if Kim wore such lacy stuff to work.

Surely not? Sylvie sure as hell doesn’t, let alone wearing a matching set.

“Like what you see?” Kim flirts before climbing back onto the bed, immediately getting to work on helping Sylvie get off her own jeans. There’s a moment when they’re off that Sylvie gets momentarily self conscious of her near-naked body, but then Kim’s running a finger along her panties again, pressing down on her clit through the fabric.

The sound it elicits from her is a mix between a gasp, moan and whine.

“Kim,” Sylvie practically begs as she releases the pressure, resuming to gentle barely there strokes as she returns her mouth to her breasts, collarbone and neck. Kim seems to get the message because then she’s—with skill that makes Sylvie wonder just how many times Kim has done this—hooking her fingers around her panties and taking them off.

She doesn’t hesitate to resume her actions, now without the fabric in the way. Kim dips a finger inside her, her thumb brushing against her clit with differentiating levels of pressure and Sylvie can’t help but shut her eyes and moan at the sensation, Kim working her with her talented fingers.

“You’re so wet,” Kim whispers into her ear, nibbling against her jawline before adding another finger. She laughs hotly against her as Sylvie tightens, squeezing Kim’s fingers. She’s just about used to the feeling, and the motions, a pressure inside her building, but then Kim’s pulling them out and she’s whining.

And then Kim’s pulling away from her, and Sylvie just about opens her eyes, lifting up her head, in time to see down her body, looking devilishly. And then Kim’s licking her and it’s everything she’s wanted, needed, and her head is falling back down. Kim works her with her mouth, and all Sylvie can think is about how indeed, Kim is mightily skilled with her tongue.

The tension in Sylvie builds quickly, fast approaching her orgasm, Kim lapping at her and using her fingers to add that extra sensation, rubbing and pinching, alternating between making she’s in place and fondling her breasts and Sylvie’s gripping at her covers, gasping and whining as she writhes, overwhelmed at the sensations.

All thoughts have left her mind, and all Sylvie can focus on is the quick approaching climax, not caring about how lost in it she must be—not caring how loud she’s being, how unfiltered and uncontrolled she is, just focused on how good Kim is making her feel.

And then she reaches her climax, Kim is taking her over and she gets her wish—it’s everything Sylvie has needed, and she screams, full of ecstasy, her body overcome with sensation, toes curling as she comes around Kim’s tongue, the brunette continuing to lap at her, guiding her through her orgasm.

“That...” Sylvie pants as soon as she can. “That—exactly what I needed.”

It’s not perfect grammar, but she thinks Kim gets it, if how she smiles and moves so she’s cuddling against Sylvie, is any indication.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago fire #kim burgess x sylvie brett #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.smut #ree.wlw

[kim-ruzek]

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.

#burzek #chicago pd #cpd spoilers #<- bc it refers to a bts pic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #adam ruzek #kim burgess #Makayla Burgess

[kim-ruzek]

Iris

Summary: And it’s those memories that she has kept on replaying on repeat in her mind ever since that day, because Adam is right, because she should’ve known, that she should’ve known his heart.

And instead she accused him of cold-blooded murder.

Or; a night at karaoke at Molly's makes Kim realise just how much she loves Adam.

Season 8 au/fix-it. Adam and Kim decided to give their relationship another go after 8x5, no Makayla, but 8x10 still happened how it did, causing them to break up.

Warnings: mentions to canon miscarriage and deaths and shootings.

Word Count: 7.8k

Read on AO3

Notes: This started as a light hearted funny idea just because I wanted to do a fic about Adam singing. The I talked to Cíara and it spiraled. Title from Iris by goo goo dolls (thanks to @fighterkimburgess for suggesting this song as what Adam sings at karaoke).

Enjoy!!

“Burgess!” Kim was so, so close to being out of the door when the desk Sargent spotted her. She inwardly cursed herself for not being quick enough, turning around with a smile on her face.

“Yes, Sarge?” Her voice was sweet but she knew that Trudy wasn’t having any of it.

“You going to the karaoke at Molly’s tonight?” Trudy gave her a look that told her there was only one right answer.

“Ah...hm, I... can’t.” Still, Kim tried to give the wrong answer.

“You’re going. Your trashy television shows will be there tomorrow.” Platt told her firmly, leaving no room for protest. No matter how much she wanted to. Not for the first time, Kim cursed that Trudy and Mouch are co-owners of the bar, even if she knew that Trudy would still make her go just as firmly even if she wasn’t.

It had been one of those cases in Intelligence. Gruelling and tiring and the kind of cases that makes you second guess your faith in humanity. And fifty-one had just come off the third tough shift in a row themselves and so Herrmann had the marvellous idea of a Karaoke night, something his co owners supported.

‘Just a bit of fun’, Herrmann had pitched as he spread the word. He only had a day to plan and tell them about it, but that was okay, depending it was for fifty one and intelligence, not the greater public.

It’s a good idea, and definitely would be good to raise and rebuild morale; it had taken quite the hit in their first responders family, understandably, with everything going on. Logically, Kim knows this. She can respect and acknowledge that it’s a good idea and something that Herrmann should do for all of them, but that doesn’t stop her from really, really not wanting to go.

It’s nothing, really, about Molly’s or Herrmann, or Trudy. Nothing personal, anyway. Lately, Kim hasn’t felt much like socialising—never mind doing karaoke—and going out tonight, dressing up and having to force herself to be around everyone, it sounds like her own personal hell.

Well, not everyone, just the one person; just Adam.

As far as Kim’s concerned the worst part of work hasn’t been the case. It has nothing to do with the gang war and the children who were caught up in it, as tough as those cases always are. It has nothing to do with the spike of fentanyl in the drugs and the many lives it’s taken. It’s because of Adam.

It’s always, Kim thinks, because of Adam.

The last eight years of her life, it’s always been because of Adam. Not work being unbearable, but anything happening in her life. Her day starts and ends with Adam, it always has, even when it doesn’t.

Even in those moments in her life where Adam is so far from her thoughts. Even when she’s sharing a bed with other men. Even when she hates—no, never hate. Not for him, anyway; herself perhaps, but never him—him.

Even when the only time in the day she thinks of him is because they’re working together. Even when all those thoughts are purely professional.

It’s always Adam.

There’s something about him, from that moment he called her over in Molly’s, that was forever imprinted onto her. His very essence wrapping around her soul, becoming just as part of her as her blood is.

Her air. It’s a thought she’s had so many times before, that he’s her air. That she never breathes as clearly as she does when she’s with him, when his arms are around her. And that air never quite stops coming to her like it does when he’s gone.

It’s a thought that she wishes—wishes so hard—that she had told him that.

Told him it before... Well before that day. Before those words came out if her mouth, never to be unheard, to break what was already barely put together, the cracks of the numerous previous breaks still so clear.

Maybe then things would’ve gone differently; maybe then she wouldn’t be suffocating.

Kim knows that’s not fair. Telling Adam that he’s her air would’ve done nothing to prevent this from happening, from this becoming her life. Adam, after all, is not the reason she’s suffocating, drowning in the water of her own tears—she, herself, is.

She was the one who didn’t think. She was the one who let her own fears, worries and anxieties rule her mind, her heart and her mouth. She was the one who broken, who had marred herself, who had darkened her own soul, spirit and heart.

It was all Kim, she knows this. God knows she’s had many lonely, cold nights to realise that, to let the knowledge sink into her.

Adam is her... Well, her everything. It’s something she’s recently truly came to terms with; that she’s finally understood, more than she ever thought was possible, the old adage of you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Many nights Kim has laid in bed, staring up at her ceiling, realising she’d give up just about everything just to touch him again, to have him touch her.

To have him let her back in, to let her come close, to let her be in the warmth of his sun.

And it’s those same many nights that Kim has realised that she could give up everything and anything, but that there’s not enough in the world to ever make that possible. That because she was selfish, because she didn’t try to acknowledge how broken she was inside, Kim lost him.

Kim hurt him in the worst way, and there’s no undo button for life. No way to reverse and undo the damage that had been done, especially when it’s just one more scar on top of so many others.

What did you do?

Those words have gone around and around in Kim’s head since she said them, since she saw the hurt in Adam’s eyes, since she saw the video evidence and since he shut that door in her face.

Kim could dissect exactly why she said that—she has, in fact, in those lonely cold nights—but the whys, they don’t matter. All that matters is the aftermath, the impact of her words. That in the moment, she doubted who Adam is, and forever shattered their relationship.

It’s something Kim never should’ve said.

Not because it’s hurtful and untrue to him, well, not just because of that. But because it’s always been Adam, ever since eight years ago, even before she fell completely and utterly head over heels in love with him.

Kim has always known who Adam is. She’s one of the first people ever to, and she saw who he is without him even needing to try hard to show her. Because she understood him, because she saw him on a level it’s taken others years too.

Because she saw him on a level that others still haven’t.

If she tried, Kim doesn’t know if she could pick just one favourite moment in all her years of knowing Adam. There’s so much good, even when things were anything but. But those first moments of their relationship, when they were still so young and blissfully unaware about what awaited them, those never fail to put a smile on her face.

And Kim can’t say just how many times she’s replayed the first moment she just got something about Adam, instinctively, and he had clearly not expected that and just looked at her with awe and adoration.

Or how many times she replayed telling him that he can be himself around her, that she will never judge him, that she knows him.

And it’s those memories that she has kept on replaying on repeat in her mind ever since that day, because Adam is right, because she should’ve known, that she should’ve known his heart.

And instead she accused him of cold-blooded murder.

There’s been many mistakes in her life, many things that she regrets. But it’s no competition as to what she regrets the most, that in just the space of a few seconds, she destroyed Adam and her, destroyed those eight years of history and connection, with only a few words.

In Kim’s line of work, you fast learn that everything can go wrong in such a short span of time. On the nights all of them, all their first responder friends, gather around and talk and it inevitably goes to the horrible things they witness, this is something they all agree on.

That it only takes a split second to go from everything being fine to nothing ever being fine again.

Looking back now, Kim knows that she was playing with fire. That they encourage all the down-on-their-luck victims to seek help, that they even encourage the criminals to do what’s best for themselves and their peers, their family, but that Kim never applied that to herself.

She had been playing with fire for years. Kim sees the looks her unit gives her, whenever there’s a child involved in a case. Not pitying, but a look that clearly shows that they know, oh they know, that she lost a part of herself that day in the motel.

That she was broken, and that they know, even if they don’t think about it, there’s always going to be that broken part of her.

But what they don’t know is that she had been broken for years. They know that maybe she plays with fire whenever the cases are child-focused, but they don’t know just how close she is to the flames normally.

Not their fault, of course. Kim carefully constructs herself, that she hides so much of her even from herself. It’s something—perhaps wilfully—that she’s ignored herself, that she was sitting beside the flames and ignoring the smoke all around her.

The only person who saw how close she was to burning herself is the very person she continued to push away.

Adam knows her as well as she knows him, and he sees her—sees her in a way she can’t even see herself. There was a moment, years ago, a month after she was shot, and she was still so, so bothered by the ugly scar it left. Adam had gently traced it with his fingers, looking at her with love and adoration, whispering how he wishes she could see herself like he sees her.

Kim has often thought about this in the years that came after, and more and more since that day she ruined everything. At nights she finds herself wishing that she could’ve, because it may have only been seconds that destroyed them, but she had made the cracks for years.

That if she hadn’t been chiselling away at them, maybe it wouldn’t have totally shattered them. That maybe, maybe, he would’ve been open to talking it out with her.

Kim knows, understands, why he isn’t. She gets it, and doesn’t fault him for it. But maybe, maybe if they weren’t so broken before, his hurt wouldn’t be so deep. That it would be seen as just one lapse.

Because that’s what it would be, just one lapse in judgement. But the truth of it is, that isn’t the reality. It wasn’t just that one moment, wasn’t just those few seconds, it was everything that came before it.

Accusing Adam of murder would always be a devastating blow to their relationship. But Kim can’t help regretting all she did before then, because she had made the damage before those words ever passed her lips.

In that one question, that one accusation—because that’s what it was—Kim doubted who he was, his character, the very essence of who he is.

It was a betrayal. It would always be a betrayal. But she had spent years before the fact doubting him, showing that there was a part of her that she was too scared to give him. Even when she agreed to give them another go, Kim knows she still held that little bit back, and she knows he knew that.

She was going to give it him, she knows that too. This time, Kim was committed to them, to make them work. And she knew that she’d need to work on herself, to make it so.

But there’s a difference between knowing and doing.

And Kim had continued along her selfish path. That she didn’t fully understand—or, perhaps, wanted to understand—exactly what working on herself would entail. That she dragged her feet on it, thinking that tomorrow she’ll do it, all while knowing that tomorrow would never come.

They had made some big and important strides in this new try of dating they had been doing. The night after they hooked up again, and Adam had convinced her to sit down and have a conversation about them, they both agreed that they needed to do some serious work.

Talking about your issues, making rules in relationships, it’s not the most fun or sexy moments but they knew it was important. Adam had told her that he wanted everything she wanted, and Kim had told him that she was scared.

And things were good.

They weren’t perfect, not by far, but they were good.

It makes sense. After Kim lost their baby, they had grown closer. That foundation, that connection and bond, between them had been worked on and they had developed a routine. There was some sort of communication between them, and dating was just an extension of that.

But they still were so lax, more lax than they should’ve been.

Or rather, Kim was lax. Adam was too, but he was faultless, because he was only following her pacing. That he respected her fears and didn’t push her, and instead of appreciating that to work on her brokenness, she took advantage of it.

And so things were good, but still so broken.

And then Adam was ranting about his dad and the trouble he was in, and Kim let that broken, hurt part of her take over, instead of the goodness that’s still buried deep inside her from when she first fell for him and she might as well have taken a sledgehammer to their relationship.

And if she just worked on herself. If she had worked on herself before this all happened, before they even began dating again. If she hadn’t spent years holding parts of herself back, always setting them on the slow path, then maybe those words wouldn’t have severed that final straw.

It was a betrayal, a doubt. But it was a doubt upon a doubt upon a doubt.

Adam’s words have replayed back in her mind every day since. I thought you’d know my heart. And he’s right, she should’ve.

And that’s why it was such a betrayal, why it did so much damage. Because Kim has spent years pushing Adam away, and he had kept trying, never letting the hurt sink too deeply, because he had that belief that even as she pushed and doubted him, that she knew him, knew his heart.

And in those few seconds, Kim stole that belief away from him.

It doesn’t matter that she does know his heart. It doesn’t matter that she loves him. It doesn’t matter that she’d do anything to fix them, that she’d give up her arm just to have him smile at her one, last time.

The damage has been done, that her wish all these years, her pushing him away; it finally worked. And it doesn’t matter that she regrets it, that she’d undo it, because this is life.

Kim played with fire and she got burnt.

She has accepted this. Kim is in pain, such incredible pain, and she misses him with all she has. But she’s accepted that this is her fault, that she and only she caused this and she must accept the consequences of her actions, no matter of the how’s and why’s she did it.

There’s a large, masochistic part of her that tells her that she deserves to feel this pain, and she’s not going to argue against that, but pain is pain.

Seeing Adam every day at work is agony. It doesn’t matter that it’s all her fault, it hurts being so close to him and yet so far. It hurts hearing him talk to her so cordially, and only when he needs to. It hurts when she sees him laugh at something funny Kevin or Jay says, knowing she’ll never make him laugh again.

It hurts that she forces herself to look away when he does so, or when he smiles, because she doesn’t feel like she’s entitled to see that side of him after everything she did. It hurts that she has to act as if she’s not dying inside and that she can’t even help soothe his own hurt.

Kim powers through, it’s work. It’s his work. It’s her work. It’s what’s best for them, the unit, the city. But by gods, does it hurt.

And at the end of the day, all Kim wants to do is go home and curl up in her bed and try not to think about how it no longer smells like Adam. She doesn’t want to go out. She doesn’t want to see anyone. She doesn’t want to do anything. She doesn’t want to keep being someone, that if people are seeing her, then she’s existing and if she’s existing, she’s hurting.

The pain, the agony, in her heart; she feels as if she’s dying. She feels numb and full of pain at the same time, and she’s full of hatred for herself and self pity. And she doesn’t want to see anyone, especially people who know her business, who knows about Adam and her, who will be trying to understand how she is—not knowing that no one can, that no one knows the intricacies of Adam and her, that no one can understand that pain.

Well, no one but Adam, and that’s the whole problem within itself. That the one person she wants to understand, who does understand, wants nothing to do with her.

And it might be selfish of her, but Kim doesn’t want to see him having fun. She’s not naive enough to think that he’s not also hurting, because of course he is, because she knows him, but she broke them and he’s trying to get over her.

There’s a part of her, probably still her inner masochist, that’s happy that Adam can still have fun despite the pain. And of course, that’s the best scenario she could want for him. But that doesn’t mean Kim wants to see it.

That she wants to witness it. Be a part of it.

Especially all while trying to pretend that she’s not dying inside.

Even on a normal night, even if Adam wasn’t going to be there, Kim would not want to go out. She hasn’t gone out since he shut the door in her face—even cancelling on her monthly girls night with Sylvie and Kelly. But a karaoke night, at Molly’s, with their mutual friends all around them—that sounds more like torture then fun.

But Trudy is Trudy.

It’s not a lack of understanding that’s why Trudy wants her to go out, Kim knows that. It’s the opposite. Trudy knows her so incredibly well, and she knows that Kim won’t ever go out if she doesn’t start trying.

It doesn’t make it easier or makes Kim want to go any more. And god, she tried her hardest to avoid the desk Sargent, knowing that if she didn’t run into her then she wouldn’t have to go. But Trudy is the closest thing Kim has to a parent, and she trusts her implicitly, and not doing what Trudy—in her own way—is advising her to do is a thought so far from her mind.

So she resigns herself to an evening where she’ll wish she’s anywhere but there, all while waiting for the time it gets less painful to be around—(Adam)—everyone.

It doesn’t take long for Kim to get ready. Just a quick shower—a rinse over; a quick thing to wash away the day and before she could remember what it felt like to have Adam standing behind her, sharing the shower, running his hands with a familiar ease over her body, calling it ‘helping’.

Or that was the aim, at least. But there’s no short enough time in the world for Kim to never remember that; the memories flooding back as soon as the water is turned on.

The shower is probably the longest part of her getting ready, the getting dressed easy and done quickly. Just some jeans and a nice shirt and she is done. If this is a night out she actually wanted to go out on, she’d be making good time.

But she doesn’t want to, so even though she’s ready with time to spare, Kim drags her feet, doing this and that in her apartment before leaving—anything to prolong the time until she has to be in Molly’s, around everyone (Adam).

The only thing that kicks her into action is the realisation that if she’s late, all eyes will be on her when she enters and that would just make everything that much worse.

Molly’s is pretty full when she arrives, but there’s still a few missing faces and Kim feels so relieved that she managed to arrive at an okay time. She hesitates slightly when she enters, wondering where to go, where to sit, and she feels almost as if she’s back in high school, her nerves piling up just as high as back then.

“Kim!” Sylvie is all smiles, living up to her personality of being sunshine personified. The blonde paramedic is bouncing up to her, immediately grabbing her hand and dragging her over to where she was sitting.

It’s at a table with Stella, Kelly and Matt. They’re all her friends, they’re not strangers, but the relief Kim feels at being at their table might’ve made one think that they were. It’s not like they’re not friendly, in some ways they’re very close, but Kim feels less pressured with them, less like they’re trying to see through her.

Not that her unit would, of course not. But with how she’s feeling, it’s different being around them opposed to her firefighter friends.

And it’s not like that she wouldn’t sit with them on a usual day, she would. Although normally, Kim would at least go greet her unit and her other med and fifty one friends, maybe just giving them waves at the minimum. But now, Kim sits down and practically tries to blend into the seat, not wanting to attract any attention.

Bless Sylvie, knowing that Kim might not be the most comfortable, allowed Kim to sit closest to the wall and is calling to Herrmann with her usual drink order, instead of Kim having to go up to the bar.

Kelly immediately brings her into a small, silly disagreement him and Matt are having, Stella quickly encouraging her to laugh and playfully tease ‘the boys' with her. Kim doesn’t know if they’re doing it because they can sense how uncomfortable she is feeling, but she appreciates it nevertheless and thinks that if the evening can just be like this, Kim in a corner with people who aren’t making her feel on display, maybe it’ll be alright.

The evening progresses.

Kim can’t say that she’s exactly pleased or happy she came out. She spends a lot of the time wishing for her comfy pjs and her duvet and her trashy shows that she can just get lost in. But it’s not as awful as she thought, in her little corner, the four of them always flocking her.

At times, she’s even having fun. There’s when Trudy gets up to do karaoke, which is always a hoot. There’s when Trudy and Mouch do a duet, the whole pub in laughter at the funny but cuteness of it. And there’s the joking her table does, the teasing of Sylvie when the boys go and get more drinks and Kim and Stella teases Sylvie over Matt and the laughing at Matt and Kelly behaving like teenage brothers.

Kim laughs, sometimes, and sometimes she forgets that Adam is in the bar as well. It doesn’t last, inevitably she looks around and catches sight of Adam, sat beside Kevin and everything turns to dirt instantly.

Her heart twists and she feels as if she’s being stabbed and then her laughter fades and she wonders how she ever could, when the love of her life is not far from her and yet he—rightfully—hates her.

Sylvie seems to notice every time, however, and tries her best to bring her back to her laughter, trying to help her forget about Adam being so close. It’s those times that Kim is truly grateful for having a friend like Sylvie—and for Kelly, him dragging Kim’s attention away from Adam when Sylvie’s busy with the karaoke.

“Come on stage with me,” Sylvie encourages her on one of the happy moments, when Adam is as far from her mind as he can be amidst her broken heart. “We’ll do we're never ever getting back together!”

Karaoke is one of Kim’s favourite things to do with Sylvie, the two getting drunk and singing all kinds of love songs, laughing while they do so. And since their friendship started, they have a tradition that whenever the one—or booth—has a heartbreak or is just annoyed at men, they sing it together. It doesn’t even have to be at a pub’s karaoke night, sometimes just being in the comfort of their own homes.

It’s some of Kim’s warmest memories, but tonight is just not the night for it. This is Adam, Adam who’s right there. Adam who is only no longer hers because of her, and it wouldn’t feel right. And then there’s that Kim doesn’t want to get up in front of everyone; not when she’s trying so hard to be a chameleon.

“I’ll go with you,” Matt offers after Kim gently turns Sylvie down, the other woman pouting slightly, despite the understanding in her eyes. Kim guesses she should be grateful for both Sylvie’s understanding and Matt’s offer—and she is—but she still catches Stella’s eye, the two women grinning knowingly at Sylvie.

The night is well in swing, and Kim notes that she could probably leave now, and it would’ve filled her obligation to Trudy. But she also notes that she’s a little reluctant too, enjoying being able to be semi distracted from her despair over Adam.

Progress, Kim thinks. But not long after she thinks that, Adam is walking to the karaoke and Kim knows that the chance that she can ignore his presence is now slim to none.

His hair is messy, strands hanging over his face slightly, and it reminds her of the night he shut the door in her face and it aches her heart. Aches, hurts, it because all she can think about is that night and aches it because all she can think is about the times it’s been like that because they’ve had sex, because she mussed it up, because he didn’t have time to style it.

Adam chooses to sing Iris by the goo goo dolls, but it’s no surprise, not really. Kevin and Kim have joked many times that Adam has only one karaoke speciality, because he always—at one point in the evening—will always sing it.

It’s not just his one speciality, of course. One of the most surprising things Kim learnt about Adam when they first started dating is about how musically talented he is. That he doesn’t just have a good voice when he’s playfully doing harmonics at work, but that he can—and does—sing.

And it’s something Kim has always loved, always loving it whenever he’d sing—especially when he’d get out his guitar and play for her.

But it’s one of his favourite songs to sing, and he has the vocal cords for it.

Really, Kim should’ve predicted that this would happen. But her mind had decided to be in denial, maybe hoping that Adam doesn’t want everyone’s eyes on him like she doesn’t want, but that’s apparently not the case and she’s wishing she just left, not wanting to hear Adam sing.

Not wanting the memories it will stir up. Not wanting to be reminded of just how badly she fucked up. Not wanting to have her heart break all over again when it still hasn’t recovered.

Kim tries to focus on the joke Kelly is saying, but her eyes can’t settle, her ears can’t hear. She can’t hear anything but Adam’s voice—his frankly beautiful—beginning to start the song, can’t concentrate on anything but the lyrical words that are falling out his mouth.

Memories of when they were happy and they were at karaoke comes flooding back to her. It’s not even memories of them being together—they may have spent the last eight years barely going ten months without sleeping together, but they’ve been not-a-couple longer than they ever were, in total. Just them drinking and laughing and just having fun. When things were easier, simpler, when he could stand to be around her, before she fucked everything up.

Memories of them at work, on a stakeout or just in the bullpen, and Adam is bored and is just humming dance around in her mind as well. Of when the bullpen wasn’t filled with a tense unease, where jokes and laughter was happily exchanged, where they felt like friends, like a family.

And the memories of them being together, of their quiet intimate evenings alone. Of them cooking together, watching random stuff on the telly or just cuddling and just being together and Adam just picking up a tune, singing odd lyrics.

Singing love ballads to her, even when they weren’t together, yet was in everything but title. Singing to her and playfully spinning her around, just for a second, just for a random second, but a second of showing her that he loves her, of treating her as if she’s his life, his bride to spin and to make smile and laugh and feel oh so loved.

Of humming this song under his breath when he’s doing something menial, like the dishes or laundry and catching her eye and just belting—but so beautifully and in tune—a line to her, grinning that grin of his as he does so, before going back to what he was doing, back to his humming.

Of the memory the morning after she told Voight that she was pregnant, and Adam had stayed over, them discussing what this would look like. Of Adam looking as if a load had been taken off him, and of how he had laid his hand over her flat stomach, singing softly—softly to her and the baby.

Of how he only got to do that a handful of times but how he deserved to have been able to do it more. Of how he deserved to be able to hold their baby in his arms and to sing to them, to see them hear his voice, know his voice, to smile and be soothed by his voice.

That oh so familiar pain, that familiar ache, in Kim’s heart returns and she grips her beer bottle that much harder, as if that would keep the pain at bay. It’s always painful thinking about what could have beens, especially about their baby—especially when it’s about Adam and their baby. There’s still a part of Kim that blames herself for what happens, and she never feels like she deserves to be sad about what she’s missed out on, but Adam... Adam was as faultless in that as much as he was in the end of their relationship, and it hurts her to think about all she made him miss out on.

And it’s even more painful knowing that she won’t be able to soothe that ache, that pain, in Adam’s arms, the only place she’s closest to her lost baby; in the arms of their father. Painful despite it being selfish of her for even wanting to.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as painful if it wasn’t this song. Not because of the memories, not because of all the times Kev and her have teased him over it—well, not just because. But because the words hit too close to home, hits close to her heart, the ache it leaves ricocheting through her body.

Kim isn’t one to apply lyrics to her own life, not really, not since her teenage years. Sylvie loves it, loves putting on music which not only speaks to her mood but what she’s directly thinking and despite the two having many girls’ nights giggling to various music, Kim doesn’t make the habit of picking songs that reflects her own mind.

She could spend time dissecting why-- that it makes her feel too exposed, because her work makes her want to always appear tough, that she can’t hide from how she feels if she’s thinking about it—but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is how, now, she feels.

How, now, she can’t ignore the words Adam is singing.

It’s just his song that he sings. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s nothing to take from it, nothing that should be making Kim feel this way. It’s not like it’s a reflection on how he feels, a purposeful choice, it’s just Adam with a few beers in him, singing the song he always sings.

But the words hit her deep, and all she can think about how they apply to her, to him, to them. That all she can think about is how it highlights what went wrong, that she doubted his heart then, after years of doubting his heart.

Adam sings the song well, delivering the notes perfectly even in his tipsy—drunk?—state, hitting the emotional lows and highs at all the right times. It’s just him performing, but maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through Kim’s veins, but it hits her, feeling like it’s him, not just a performance, sounding so raw and real.

It grabs at her heart, twisting it so painfully in such a deep, aching way.

All Kim wants to do is hold him, is to be with him. To cover his face in kisses, to hold him close, to tell him that he’s hers and she’s his and that’s how it’ll be for eternity. That she loves him, that she knows him, that her soul is his, entwined so tightly and closely around each other it’s impossible to tell who’s is who that it’s essentially just one.

And it hits her; she loves him.

Kim knows this, of course. And if she didn’t, the pain she has been feeling over these weeks without him would be the tell. That she feels empty, like a part of her is missing because Adam is not beside her is because she loves him; that her love burns brighter and more fiercely than an exploding sun.

But this evening, she only embarked upon this because Trudy wanted her to see that she can put herself together again. That things will get easier, that she can adjust to life without part of herself. And she had thought so, had saw it as a possibility as she laughed at her table’s jokes, as she got lost in those moments without thinking about Adam close by.

Now Kim can see—can feels—that’s nothing but a pipedream. That she loves Adam so, so much and things will never get easier to be without him. That this pain is hers and hers forever. That her life will only ever be made up of small moments where she’s without pain but that she’ll never be free.

Adam is where her story begins, where her life is. And she’ll never get him again, because she was selfish and she pushed him away and doubted him in the most awful way. Kim has accepted this, and now she accepts that her life will never get easier.

It doesn’t make it any easier to feel, to experience.

She can’t stay here, at Molly’s. She just can’t. It might be Kim’s fault why everything fell apart but she’s only human, and the ache in her heart—the ache of pain for hurting him and the ache of desire of wanting him—getting too much.

Kim puts down some money next to her beer, and she’s scooting past Sylvie, thankful that the paramedic had stood up only a few minutes before. Molly’s is crowded, and so she can high-tail it out of there without much attention and for that she is glad.

Sylvie calls after her, however, obviously concerned at her friend leaving so suddenly and Kim shouldn’t turn back to look at her, but she does, only a glance. But she miscalculates and she accidentally locks eyes with Adam and, god, it just makes the ache in her hurt that much more and she knows that she needs to go, go, go.

The cool night air hits her but it does nothing for her pounding inside her heart, does nothing to help her no longer feel like she’s on the edge of a cliff and she’s about to fall. Kim regrets deciding to drink, that she didn’t drive herself here so that she can’t just jump in a car and get as far away from here as possible.

Instead she paces the pavement, her fingers quickly working her phone to get a taxi. There’s the slight hum from the music inside which permeates through the night air, and it just makes it harder to forget the sight of Adam, looking so lovable and fuckable, and how she’s no longer allowed to think such things.

“Kim, what’s up?” Sylvie has followed her, looking concerned.

“It’s just,” Kim waves her hands in vague gesture at Molly’s. “Too much. I need to go home, I just can’t.”

“I understand. I can go with you, if you need some company? But Kim—you work with Adam. You need to get used to being around him in informal settings as hard as that is.” Sylvie reminds her gently.

“Maybe I’ll transfer,” It’s meant as a joke, but her tone is flat, and it hits wrong. Kim isn’t being serious, but there’s that little bit of truth, that it would be easier, and it rings through her words.

“Kim,” Sylvie gives her an empathetic look. “Just—talk to him.”

“What, like how you’re talking to Matt? Anything but how you feel?” Kim can’t help interrupt her, her tone clipped. Her friend shoots her an unamused look.

“That’s different. Matt and I haven’t dated, we don’t have half the history you and Adam do. And I’m okay working with him, but if you’re even thinking about that, even in a joking way, just talk to him. I know he’s hurting and you are, but you two belong together, don’t let your pride get in the way of that.” Rationally, Kim knows Sylvie makes sense and that she’s just looking out for her, but any sense of rationality is being blocked by the throbbing ache in her heart.

“It’s not pride. He hates me. And with good reason. There’s nothing I can say that can fix that and just—just leave it okay?” She snaps.

“Okay. Do you want me to go home with you?” Ever the angel, Sylvie backs down and Kim wishes that she was less in pain so she could appreciate it.

“I’m fine.” Her voice is calm, cold, final. Sylvie sighs, giving her one more look, before she heads back inside the bar. Kim’s taxi arrives shortly after.

It’s not even two hours later that Kim’s in a taxi again, bouncing her leg as the cabbie drives, tapping her foot out of nerves and impatience.

Kim wonders what the taxi driver will be thinking about her. There’s the smell of alcohol on her breath, and she can barely sit still in the seat, moving around nervously. She hadn’t looked at her hair before she left her apartment—again—but depending she just lay down on a sofa and half screamed moaned into her pillow, Kim would be surprised if it wasn’t at least slightly unruly, mussed a bit.

In truth of it all, the taxi driver probably hasn’t given two thoughts towards her since she got in. She’s just going to be yet another customer, just one of many he’ll have this night and the nights to come. And in Chicago, he’s probably seen all walks of life, people who look more like car crashes and disaster than her slightly un-put together, anxious self.

But focusing on thinking about this helps distract her mind from where she’s going—to Adam’s—and this borderline crazy idea to do so.

Adam has made it clear that he doesn’t want to hear from her. That she has cut him deep, and that she ruined whatever they were building together. He doesn’t want to hear her excuses, no matter how reasonable it seemed to her at the time.

But Kim’s not coming with excuses.

There’s not the aim to fix this, to get back together. Well, there’s not not that. Kim doesn’t really know what it is, what she wants from it, not really. She would love, of course, if Adam could see them trying to rebuild, but she only wants that if he truly can. If he can do it without compromising any part of himself, Kim has asked for pieces of him far too much to ever let him give her more.

It’s just... Lying in her apartment, alone, the dark—Kim hadn’t bothered to turn on her lights, because what’s the point—all Kim wanted was Adam.

Kim’s not coming with excuses or half apologies or propositions. She just can’t stay away from him, she just needs...

Well, Kim doesn’t know what she needs. Her mind is telling her that she needs him to know something, or needs to see her, but isn’t telling her what or why. Kim doesn’t even think she actually knows, that she’s just driven by this need.

It’s not a selfish need—not anymore selfish than any other action, that is. It’s just this inexplicable need. It’s, Kim thinks, possibly the most selfless need because it comes with no expectations or reasons, no outcomes or purposes.

And yet it’s the most selfish thing Kim has ever done. Not selfish in a bad way, nor even in a good way. But just in a selfish way, or maybe... Maybe if you can be selfless, maybe this is self-full.

Because it’s selfish in the way that it’s the first thing she’s ever done for herself just because. Everything else she hems and haws over and considers so many factors, where this is just done because she needs Adam, and because she knows, knows, Adam will be missing her.

He hates her, yes. He wants nothing to do with her and has been so hurt. But their love... Their love is like nothing else, fierce and strong, deep and true. He misses her when she’s in his arms, as she does too. Even with what she said, even with him wanting nothing to do with her, he’ll be missing her.

Kim’s not naive enough to convince herself otherwise anymore.

Kim’s knocks on Adam’s door goes unanswered and it’s only then that she realises that Adam might not even be home yet, that she didn’t leave Molly’s too long ago, that those nights can go on for quite a while and there’s no reason why Adam would be home.

There’s a feeling of defeat hanging heavy in her heart but she just leans against the wall beside his door, refusing to leave. Even if she has to wait hours, even if he just ignores her, Kim is determined to at least lay her eyes on Adam one more time tonight.

Kim isn’t waiting long. At least, she doesn’t think that much time has past. Adam has appeared, walking down his corridor, a look of surprise on his face at her being here. There’s a part of her mind, far at the back, that remembers that night she told Voight about the baby, and how this is like the opposite of then.

“Kim.” Adam stops a few feet away from her. The surprise is clearly displayed on his face, and in his voice. She turns so she’s facing him dead on, surprisingly confident.

“I came here to talk.” She tells him, impressed at how her voice doesn’t waver. He lifts up his eyebrows.

“About what?” If things were good, Kim would’ve playfully hit his arm and teased him, pointing out the elephant between them, about the day she ruined it all. But things aren’t good, so she doesn’t, but still, she can’t help but bring a bit of lightness to the heavy tenseness hovering in the air between them.

“Everything?” She smiles slightly, hoping he gets the reference. The corners of his lips twitch upwards and Kim thinks that means he did.

Adam moves closer and her heart beats way too fast. He’s got his key in his hand, and Kim realises he’s only stepping so close to her so that he can unlock his door, and she’s trying not to be overwhelmed by him being so, so close to her. Trying not to focus on how she can smell him and how easy it would be to touch him, to sink into his arms, to grab him and beg him to hold her and never let her go.

Her mind is going haywire, but she tries to calm her breathing, her heart, trying not to outwardly show how much she wants him to let her in, to give her another chance. Tries to remind herself that he might just shut his door in her face again, that just because he hasn’t told her to fuck off now doesn’t mean he still won’t.

But then Adam, pushing open his door, turns slightly towards her, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Why don’t you come in?” He offers, indicating for her to enter first. Kim smiles at him, it’s a wider smile than the faint one he gave her, but that’s okay, so much has happened. But Kim accepts the olive branch for what it is, and enters his home.

Everything won’t be sorted over night, but it’s a start. And the important thing is that Kim knows more than ever who Adam is, knows his heart. And that she knows who she is, knows her own heart and she knows that she is Adam’s, even if he no longer wants to be hers.

#burzek #kim burgess #adam ruzek #kim burgess x adam ruzek #Chicago pd #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree' #ree's.writing

[kim-ruzek]

Something's gone terribly wrong

Summary: Adam's gone missing, and looking at his phone records makes intelligence discover something very interesting. An alternative way for Kim and Adam's relationship could've been found out.

Or; Kim and Adam learn the true meaning of family.

Warnings: alludes to (canon-typical) violence, alludes to sex/talks about sex, Bob Ruzek's A+ parenting, blood mentions, Adam whump.

Word Count: 17.2k words

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Notes: SO. This all started because I got drunk and made drunken notes on fic ideas, and then when I was sober, Cíara convinced me that I Needed to write it. Originally, this was only meant to be a silly, short little thing but it's become so much more. This is basically a love letter to Adam and Kim, and how much they're respected and loved by intelligence.

I hope y'all like it!!! I'm so, so proud of this so I really hope you get some enjoyment out of it! I've only put the first 4k words on here, the rest you'll have to read on AO3. I've linked it here and at the bottom of this post!!!

Alvin Olinsky had known Hank Voight for all of their respective careers, most of their peers knowing that they often come as a package deal. Even IAB, if the fact that when Voight got out of prison with his shiny new promotion he was put in charge of intelligence, a unit that Al had been involved in for two years previous after leaving the gang unit, is anything to go by.

And yet, like so many of their co-workers, Al’s uncanny ability to blend into the walls and make everyone forget about his presence still affects Voight. It shouldn’t, not when they’ve known each other for years, but at least it explains why Al is known as one of the best undercover operatives, if his nature can even trick one of his oldest friends.

“Once Al gets here--,” Voight’s dolling out the day’s instructions, which is no doubt just to keep on working on their long term drug investigation.

“I’m here,” Al interrupts, rolling his chair out to show. Voight looks at him and the two nod at each other, and then Voight goes to continue.

“But,” Al interrupts again. “My partner isn’t.”

Al indicates at the empty chair opposite to him, as if to show evidence. He had noticed that Adam hadn’t arrived yet. It’s unusual, the young, enthusiastic puppy-like man often making his presence known as soon as he gets through the doors. It’s both an insufferable and endearing quality, and makes it painfully obvious when Adam isn’t here.

Before Voight had came out his office, when the unit was just doing their early morning paperwork, Al had double checked the schedule, to make sure that it isn’t Adam’s day off. It isn’t, and so Al shot off a text to the man. Adam doesn’t have the best time management, although he’s never late, but he can drag his feet a bit. Especially since he got with his new girl he thinks Al doesn’t know about—like Al doesn’t notice the boy’s constant texting, his ever-present good mood and, of course, the clear markings of a lover’s meeting when he’s getting changed.

But Adam had neither replied to his message, nor came barrelling into the bullpen with some quick excuse about traffic, as if he thinks Al can’t see the slight stain of lip-gloss on his lips.

Voight frowns at the empty seat, clearly off put by it as well.

“Has he given a reason?” After Al shakes his head in reply, Voight looks to the others in the unit, specifically at Kevin. If someone is going to know, it would be him.

But Kevin didn’t know, and Adam didn’t respond to his texts either.

It’s been a few hours now, and Adam hasn’t stumbled in with any reason or excuse. They started off only a little concerned, with Jay, Erin and Antonio dismissing that there’s any worry, to the unit being in alert mode, deeply concerned. In their jobs, you don’t just go missing, with no word.

They had checked his desk for his UC phone, to see if he had an impromptu meeting or information, but it still sat in his desk draw. They had then pinged his phone, to see his location, but it was either off or destroyed.

They had done everything. They had checked everything, gone to his apartment to see if he’s home, gone to the last location his phone noted and... nothing. Al was getting increasingly worried by the second, as was the unit.

There is a tenseness in the bullpen, a palatable worry between them all. They’re all thinking the same thing, even if no one’s saying it. That they’ve been investigating some dangerous people, that Adam may be an overgrown child sometimes but he’d always call, that the longer it takes to work this out, the more chance of something bad happening.

“We’re looking at this all wrong.” Erin suddenly says. Everyone turns to face her. “We should approach this like we do a criminal. Get his phone records, try to make a timeline of his movements, talk to whoever he’s been in contact with.”

There’s an instant agreement in the room, and they immediately get on that. It feels wrong getting the records of one of their own, to even consider to look at who Adam’s been calling, texting. But it’s necessary, necessary to invade his privacy if they’re to work out where he’s gone.

Unfortunately, the calls don’t reveal much. Apart from the standard calls and messages to the unit, a couple to his dad, most of his calls and texts were to one Kayla, the girl who from context of the texts is the girl he’s seeing.

“This is useless, it tells us nothing,” Al grumbles, not even bothering to keep the frustration out of his voice. Adam is missing, potentially hurt, in danger, and they’re wasting time looking at Adam’s lovey-dovey sickening messages to this girl. It does nothing but make him even more frustrated (and maybe a little hurt that this girl and Adam seem serious, and yet Adam hasn’t mentioned her to him and maybe they’re not as tight as Al thought and if they don’t find him quick, he’ll never get to ask).

“Except that Ruzek’s got a girl he’s been keeping from us.” Jay jokes, and Al fixes him a glare. This is not the time for jokes, even if Al knows Jay is just as worried. The rest of the team seem to appreciate Jay’s attempt at easing the tenseness in the room, Al notes, as he looks around at everyone—even Voight, because the fact that the team still feels like cracking a joke to ease tension means they have hope and in situations like this, hope is good.

All except Kevin, that is. The officer is too engrossed in looking at the messages to hear. He’s frowning, some confusion or questioning look upon his face. Al wonders what’s got his focus, if there’s something about the messages that he’s noticed that every one else has missed. Kevin and Adam are good friends, Al supposes if anyone is going to notice something off, it’s him.

But Kevin doesn’t say anything, merely shaking his head and looking away from the messages and back at the team, awaiting someone to suggest their next move. They’re not waiting long, as almost right after, Antonio speaks.

“Let’s call this Kayla. If something is up with the boyfriend, the girlfriend usually knows.” Antonio suggests. It’s a good idea, and Al kicks himself, thinking that he really should’ve thought of it first. Maybe because the thought of talking to this girl hurts something inside him, because she’s someone Adam didn’t want Al to meet. But he needs to stop thinking like that, stop getting caught up in respect and care, because that’s wasting potentially precious moments of Adam’s life.

“Good idea. We’ll put it on loudspeaker, but Atwater, you talk to this girl. We don’t want to alarm her too much,” Voight commands.

The few seconds it takes to ring feels like the longest seconds of Al’s life. This could be a lead, something that tells them where in the world Adam is, confirming that he hasn’t just dropped off the face of the earth. Al’s feeling some hope, some optimism that maybe they’ll know where Adam is before lunch but then the phone goes to voicemail.

“Please leave a message, I’ll call you back when I can!”

Al feels defeated, as does everyone else by the looks of his unit’s face. It’s just the girl’s voicemail, they can try again, it’s not the end of the world. But it feels like it. Voight’s rubbing his forehead, seeming as frustrated as Al is. It’s silent in the bullpen—but only for a second because then someone, Kevin, is talking.

“There’s our lead, that’s Burgess.”

Kim can’t count how many times she’s seen Platt and immediately wanted to hide, to run, to let the floor swallow her whole. Her Sargent rides you hard, and it’s worth it, but by gods is she terrifying. And if you’ve crossed her, hell would be a safer place. But as Roman and her enter the 21st and Kim sees the formidable desk Sargent, all she feels is relief—because finally, finally, she can get some reprieve from Roman bitching about intelligence.

It has been non-stop since they got the call over the radio to come back to the district, that they’re needed by intelligence. Roman has very clearly made his feelings known about being at the call to the unit, many, many times. Kim’s not sure what’s his problem, if it’s because he has an inferiority complex or superiority complex, or that he has no aim to get into an elite unit such as that but can’t help but resent those who do. But what she is sure of is that if she has to hear his repetitive grumbling thoughts about it again, she might just shoot him. It’s beginning to get to the point that Kim dreads Intelligence deciding to use them, no matter how fun, because it means she’ll have to endure the rant.

Although having to suffer through it might just be worth it if it means her name is being mentioned up there, and to get to see Adam before their evening plans. To get to exchange a subtle look at him, telling him silently just how much she misses him, wants to be with him. To get to have him give her a look, a look of comfort that her being there means she’s had to endure the rant.

Of course, that’s not a reason she’s in any hurry to tell Voight as a reason she likes when he uses them. After all, the reason she’s not up there is because of his archaic rule about in-house dating.

“We’re needed?” Kim gets to Platt’s desk in record time. She thinks she sees a slight smile appear on the desk Sargent’s face at Kim practically rushing to the desk, leaving Roman behind so he had to catch up quickly, but it’s gone before it’s there, and Kim dismisses it, thinking she must be imagining it.

“Yeah. Well you are, but you can take up your partner. You might need it, moral support or whatever.” Platt tells her. Kim opens her mouth, about to protest against the assumption that she’s weak and needs support—especially from an ass like Roman—but Platt silences her before she can, her expression softening ever so slightly as she does so.

“Zip it, Burgess, it’s not a comment on you as a cop. They need you because...Ruzek didn’t sign into work today and they think you might be able to shine some light on the situation.” Platt says, but Kim barely hears the words. How did Adam not sign in, when this morning they were very much headed into work together? He was talking about his paperwork, for god’s sake!

“What more can she tell them that one of them doesn’t know?” Roman chimes in then, complaining. Kim near punches him, having even less patience for him now her mind is reeling with concern for Adam. Platt fixes him a look before looking back at Kim. She leans forward slightly, looking at Kim with concern.

“I believe they looked at his texts. And came to the conclusion that you will know.” Platt softly tells her, before fixing her a very pointed look. It takes Kim a second to realise what she’s on about, but once she does, realising that oh god Voight knows they’re dating, Kim turns a shade of red. Then frowns, because Platt doesn’t seem at all phased. And then she’s blushing even darker because oh god has Platt known all this time?

“Now, go.” Kim has barely any time to process this before Platt is shooing them away, reminding them that upstairs needs them.

Kim walks up the stairs in a daze, barely hearing Roman’s complaining and questions, and the door buzzing as Platt buzzes them in. So much has been put on her, she’s unsure what she should be more shocked at. That Adam’s missing, possibly in danger, or that apparently they haven’t been as careful as she thought, or that Voight knows, everyone knows. And that they know that they’ve been texting under false names.

There’s always a feeling of awkwardness Kim gets when she walks up the stairs and arrives at the bullpen. The unit is elite, and so close and tight, their cases usually having a need to know status, and coming up to that, interrupting that, it can feel very much like you’ve stumbled into a forbidden place, somewhere you don’t belong. And it’s only amplified by Kim really, really wanting to belong.

But nothing has ever felt as awkward as this.

Everyone turns to look at her as soon as she gets up the stairs. The slight mumblings between them falling silent and it feels like one of those dreams where you’re naked, feeling as if everyone can see right through her. Because they all know now, they all know that Adam are her are seeing each other, that they’re being secretive about it, and they’ve read their messages and Kim doesn’t know how much but she knows one of their last messages was their thinly veiled sexting and oh god, what if they’ve read her messages about what she wanted to do to Adam last night—the thing she did do.

Voight’s expression is unreadable, as usual, but Kim doesn’t need to be able to read it to know what he’s thinking. Probably right now there’s just concern for his MIA officer, but after they locate Adam, it’s going to be thoughts about how now Kim will never make it into intelligence. That he might be feeling disappointed in her, because instead of proving she’s serious, she’s just gone and dated Adam on the down low. Never mind that his rule shouldn’t exist or have any impact on his decisions about his officers, but it’s his right to make whatever rule and now Kim’s proven she’s not intelligence material according to those rules.

Halstead is giving her an almost pitying look, with some interest, like he’s wondering how and why it started. Lindsay’s also giving her a sympathetic look, likewise Antonio and not for the first time, Kim feels glad for their presences, it making her feel more at ease.

Kim doesn’t even want to dissect the look that Olinsky’s giving her. And Kevin, oh Kevin. Kim knows exactly what Kevin is thinking just with one glance at his expression. They were partners and they’re best friends; Kim can read him like an open book.

There’s the same worry for Adam as the rest, and he’s also looking at her differently with this new piece of information. But not like the others, because Kevin isn’t just another member of intelligence, he’s he best friend, Adam’s best friend, and they kept this from him. There’s curiosity, questions, a look that tells Kim with no uncertainty that after this is done, after Adam is found, they’re going to have a talk.

“Platt briefed you?” Voight asks. He’s a man of little words, but Kim can’t help but feel like he’s choosing as little words as possible because he, too, is feeling awkward. After all, how do you tell your teammate’s girlfriend her boyfriend is missing, when she’s your colleague and you didn’t know they were together.

Kim manages to nod in answer, wishing so desperately that Adam was here, so she could catch his eye, so she could have him give her a slight, reassuring nod that would immediately put her ease and fill her with confidence. If course, if Adam was here, then this wouldn’t be happening.

“Did Ruzek say anything to you? Tell you where he’d be going?” Voight then asks, and Kim has to take a deep breathe to calm herself before answering. Because the answer isn’t an optimistic one, because the answer makes her worried, because Adam should be here.

“All he was talking about was work. He was going here, we were headed to work together.” Kim tells him, trying to not let her mind spiral with what could’ve happened. From beside her, Roman looks at her, as if piecing together exactly why Kim might know more.

“So you saw him this morning?” Al interjects and Kim blushes as she realises the implications of her words. There’s nothing wrong about it, but Kim isn’t prepared to have to talk about the domesticities of Adam and her lives yet. Kim has barely nodded before Al is speaking again.

“You said you were headed in to work together? So he was here, at the district.” At Al’s question, Kim cringes slightly, that she has to explain their routine.

“I don’t know. We take our own cars most of the time. But... Uh, sometimes we park before getting here to, uh, just say goodbye one more time, and he usually gets here first, but he wasn’t there today. So I just assumed that you got a case so he couldn’t hang around.” If the floor could just open up, that would be great, Kim thinks as she speaks. Never did she think that she’d be having to tell them about Adam and her’s sneaky secret kisses.

Kim thinks Al is about to ask her something else, but Voight steps forward, interrupting him before he can.

“Come on, let’s take this to the interrogation room, for privacy. This is a conversation to be done sat down.” Voight tells her, indicating for her to go down the hall. It’s a nice gesture, and Kim appreciates it, but there’s a part of her that feels like because he’s treating her with care that definitely means this is the final nail in the coffin, that this means she’ll never make intelligence.

Although if that’s the price to pay for Adam to be okay, Kim thinks that’d make it easier to swallow. Adam is the man she loves, a word they told each other a couple months ago, and she couldn’t bare it if he’s not okay.

“If you can, take us through the morning. It’ll be helpful, to establish Ruzek’s mind-set.” Voight asks once they’re sat in the interrogation room. Kim would rather do literally anything else, but she understands that she needs to.

“It was pretty normal. We woke up, got ready for work, had breakfast. We talked about our plans over breakfast—that’s when he was talking about doing his paperwork—and then we were leaving. Nothing was off or wrong, it was just normal.” She wishes something was wrong, so that she could be more help. So they could find him.

“There must be something. Look deeper, go through the morning stage by stage. Break it down. What was his mood like? Was he distracted?” Al asks—or demanded might be a better description. Kim can see the worry, plain and unconcealed on his face. Adam is like a son to him, and she knows how much Adam looks up to him like a father as well, and Kim thinks that he might just be the only other person who gets the spine-chilling fear of Adam being AWOL. The others are worried, of course, but the thought of even a hair of Adam’s being messed in some way is a stomach churning thought.

“His mood was fine. Normal. He wasn’t distracted or anything. If he was, I would’ve asked but he was fine. We were making evening plans and everything!” Kim feels almost as if the room is closing in on her, feeling useless. What kind of girlfriend is she?

“I’m sorry I’m no help,” Kim apologizes, feeling bad. And feeling worse when Voight gives her one of his rare sympathetic and soft looks.

“There’s got to be something. Break down the morning into the times. What time did you get up, leave. Burgess, think.” Al persists. Kim would feel annoyed that he’s doubting her, but she can hear how worried he is, see it. Al has taken off his beanie, looking so drawn and concerned.

“Our alarm went off at six. At around seven, maybe quarter to, we were getting ready. Breakfast was at like, half past. And we were leaving before eight. He was fine throughout the morning, happy. His normal self?” Kim explains. To say Adam was happy would be an understatement, he was full of energy, barely unable to keep his hands off her all morning. Not that she’s going to say that to them.

“How could it go from that to him not turning up to work?” Al vents, and Voight rests a hand on his shoulder. Al turns back to look at her.

“It took you nearly an hour to get out of bed. Why?” He asks, and Kim blushes instinctively, as she remembers the passionate love-making Adam and her had this morning. Subconsciously, her hand goes to rest on her collarbone where, under the fabric of her uniform, is the deep mark Adam left on her.

“We were, uh, having a lazy morning.” Kim answers, wishing ever so much that Adam would just turn up so that this conversation could end. She doesn’t blame Al for not realising why two young lovers might take so long to get out of bed, he’s stressed, but she wishes she didn’t have to expand on it. She watches his face, waiting for the awkward realisation of why occurring to him, but it doesn’t come.

“Lazy? That boy has never been immobile a day in his life. Was he okay? You said he was fine, but why was he being lazy. Was he tired, distracted, upset? Could he have been lethargic, maybe he was drugged?” Al demands and Kim thinks that she must be the colour of a tomato because oh god she’s going to have to spell this out.

“He wasn’t drugged, I’m sure of that.” She says, emphasising her words, hoping to get through Al’s stress. Please, please don’t let her have to tell Adam’s surrogate father that they were having sex.

“How do you know? Burgess, if there’s any chance—” Apparently, this is happening.

“Al, I know because we were having sex, and trust me, he could not do what he did if he was drugged.” Kim’s voice is firm, as she spells it out explicitly, and she’s amazed that it is, that she sounds so strong and sure instead of like a nervous teenager being caught in the act, like she was so certain age would be.

“Oh.” She watches him process her words, everything she was getting at finally dawning onto him. If she’s not mistaken, Al looks as if he’s turning slightly red himself, and he shifts awkwardly. Kim can’t help but feel slight satisfaction in making him feel as awkward as she does—even if, preferably, none of them would’ve had to endure this.

“I think.. I’m going.” Al uncharacteristically stumbles over his words, not wasting any time getting out of the room. Kim wonders if he’ll be ever able to look at her ever again.

“Thank you, I know that wasn’t easy. But now we know something must’ve happened on Ruzek’s way to work.” Voight stands up himself, signalling that this conversation is over. Kim feels relief, briefly, as it’s then quickly overtaken by her worry for Adam.

And before she knows it, she’s blurting out words. “I want to help you. Find him. Please, he’s... I need to help.”

She has no right asking this. But she couldn’t stop herself, knowing that she can’t just go back to patrol and act as if everything is okay. Because it’s not okay, because Adam’s not okay, which means her world isn’t okay. Voight looks thoughtfully at her.

“Okay.” He says simply, and Kim blinks, shocked.

“Really?” She can barely believe it.

“I was going to offer. You should be involved—and I think you might add a needed and different perspective. You know how he thinks.” Voight says, before he exits the room, leaving her kind reeling. What does that mean exactly, and does this mean...does this mean she’s still got a chance?

Kim leaves the room shortly after Voight. The rest of the unit was walking out the observation room and Kim realises that they all followed them, and listened on to the conversation. It makes sense, because what if Kim had said something of use, but she cringes at the thought of them all hearing what she said.

She catches Roman’s eye first, seeing how his expression is stony, that he clearly has some strong opinions on this, like he does with everything. He looks almost disappointed in her, like he respects her less, and it infuriates her because how dare he judge her, when he didn’t want a woman partner? But she’s too worried to focus on her petty anger, so she looks away from him, not having the energy or mental capacity to give him any time of day right now.

As Kim shifts her eyes away from Roman, she locks onto Kevin. There’s a feeling of comfort for a second. Kevin is one of the only people in the world that she trusts with her whole heart, and he makes her feel safe and she feels so unsure right now. But then her mind catches up, and age realises that he’s exiting the observation room which means he was listening in which means that oh god he heard her talk about having sex with Adam.

And from the look of the way he seems very uncomfortable, he most definitely did hear that. Their eye contact only lasts for a second until they’re both very quickly looking away, unable to look at each other straight. Kevin is like her brother, and she his sister, and no one wants to hear about their siblings’ sex life—especially with their best friend.

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