Work Text:
“Hey Grace,” a faceless voice greeted her as she walked to her locker. She didn’t know who it belonged to, but it didn’t matter, some social graces were innate. “You OK?”
“Aye. You?” She opened the door to her locker and starred at the back panel, was she OK? No, she really wasn’t. “Yeah.”
“Right. See ya.” She sighed to her nameless colleague. “See ya.”
She blinked into the void of her locker and the sight blurred. She wasn’t OK at all. Cal had gone to Manchester that weekend. She had come home the day before and had slept alone in the house. It wasn’t her first time exactly. Cal had always had a healthy social life and sleepovers were common place with trusted friends whose parents she had personally vetted. However, this was the first time she knew her son wouldn’t come back home with stories. She was all alone. Her son, her bright star and the soul of her life had left because she couldn’t recognize his unhappiness and the difficulties of his reality. She was a trained social worker and she had been blind to her own child’s reality. Being a parent was a delicate balance between elation and failure and she had never felt like such a failure as she had staring at her own door after being pushed away by her son. That feeling lived with her every day; it hurt more each day.
The locker room door opened and she took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do for her coworkers to see her like this. It was nobody’s business but her own if she didn’t want to go home to an empty house.
She felt more than heard Stevie come to stand next to the row of lockers. She turned in time to see him lean his shoulder against the closed door. “Not changed yet?”
Grace looked down, “Nah, too slow. I guess I’m just tired, you know?”
“Aye, that ferry ride’s murder,” his tone was too gentle for Grace’s fragile feelings. The tears she had been holding back rolled down her cheeks and Stevie stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She grabbed his hoodie with both hands and cried as silently she could in his shoulder, her partner a rock under her, solid and steady in a way she didn’t feel at the moment. He didn’t loosen his grip on her once, didn’t shush her once, simply held her the way she needed him to, as long she needed him for. She was embarrassed when she finally got her tears under her control. She pulled away and put her hand over the wet spot of his shoulder. “Sorry.”
Stevie covered her hand with his and squeezed tenderly. “It’s OK.” Grace looked into his eyes and the depth of feelings in them almost made her cry again. He lifter his other hand to her face and rubbed under her eye with his thumb, drying her tears, he was steadfast in the face of her grief. Grace took a deep breath when the pain in her heart shifted a bit. Stevie smiled at her. “Better?”
She took a minute to assess, “Some.” Stevie nodded. “OK. Get changed and meet me in the break room, yeah?”
Anything not to go home. “Yeah.”
“OK.” Stevie gave her hand one last squeeze and he walked away and out of the locker room. Grace gathered her things and changed. Spending time with Stevie outside of work hours was dangerous. They had discussed their feelings, they both knew they had them. They hadn’t defined their feelings. It was easier to ignore a “spark” of “something” when it was left vague and nondescript than it was to fight the complete truth. In the middle of the night, though, when she looked at her phone, fighting the urge to text him, she could admit to herself it was love.
She was in love with Stevie.
It wasn’t the sweet rush of her first love, or the all-consuming feelings she’d had with Cal’s father before it all turned to spectacular shit, nor was it like the fleeting infatuations she’d have in the years since. It felt different. It was different. Being in love with Stevie felt like coming home at the end of a very long, very hard day. It was joy and comfort in equal measure, both exciting and safe. She felt freer being loved by Stevie, and she knew she was, than she had in her life. She didn’t have to hide anything from him, he just took her as she was. It felt like it was just meant to be, had they been in a different situation.
Herein lied her problem. They were who they were and they had the job they had. While they were on the same hierarchical step at work, she was afraid that he would see her as a liability more than as a partner on shift. She was afraid he would feel the need to protect her beyond what a regular partner would. Eventually, people would pick up on that and she would be seen as less. Less than a cop, less than a person. She had sacrificed so much to be a police officer: her relationship with her son, her house, her safety. If, on top of that, she lost the respect of her colleagues because they only saw her as Stevie’s girlfriend and felt couldn’t trust her to be a cop anymore, then she would have made all those sacrifices for nothing.
With a sigh, she closed her locker and stared at the orange paint. She was unfair, Stevie was not nothing, but she knew, if it happened, she would resent him and then, she would really lose everything.
Grace walked out of the locker room and went to the break room. Most lights were closed, it felt cozy without the neon lights. It also smelled better, a gentle citrus scent coming from the lone candle on the counter tried to cover the hints of not quite fresh Thai food lingering. Stevie poured some milk in a mug and turned to smile at her. “Perfect timing.”
She watched as he took two mugs from the counter, walked to the table and put them next to his original bento box. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “What’cha got there?” She walked to the table and Stevie pulled a chair for her. She sat down and took the mug in front of her. It was her favourite tea, prepared just how she liked it. The tight coil around her heart loosened. She watched him take a seat next to her and reached for his bento box. He pulled the elastic with a dramatic move and Grace snorted. He was always doing the most. Stevie took the lid of the box and presented it to her. Inside were four perfect cookies the size of her hand. She saw chocolate chips, toffee bits and nuts in golden dough.
“Cookies?”
“Aye, I thought I’d try my hand at baking. It’s tricky, making the perfect cookie,” Grace smiled. He was full of it. He knew that she knew that he was a wonderful baker. He also knew that cookies were her crutch in moments of great emotional turmoil. She warmed inside. He’d gone to the kitchen with the sole intent to make her feel better. She reached in the container and took a cookie. Stevie did the same and broke off the smallest piece she had ever seen him eat. Normally, his bites hovered somewhere between healthy and obscene, so to watch him take a small piece, she knew it had to be intentional. Grace did the same and put it in her mouth. The butter in the dough melted on her tongue and mixed with chocolate and toffee in a brilliant mix. “Hummmmm...”
Stevie’s eyes widened and he swallowed his bite roughly, coughing as his cheeks flushed slightly.
“You OK?” she watched him reach for his mug and take a sip. She put her cookie on the paper towel in front of her leaned forward to rub his back as he swallowed even harder. “Aye, went down the wrong way.” He took more tea and looked into her eyes, they were sitting too close for colleagues, but maybe even for friends, but it didn’t really matter. Here in the break room it, it was safe to be together.
When he got his breath under control, she leaned back, trailing her hand down his arm. She reached the table and Stevie hooked his pinkie around her own. “It’s gonna be OK, you know? He’s a smart lad.”
She looked at their entwined fingers; that tiny touch an anchor in the turmoil of her feelings. “I know, I just... I poured everything into being his mother and I know I’m still his mother, but I don’t think I had prepared myself for the day he wouldn’t need me anymore.”
Stevie turned his hand over and slid it under hers, not holding her hand, just let her fingers fall naturally between his own, fitting there comfortably, as if they’d done this a million times before.
“You’ll always be his mum, and he’ll always need you. He just needs to find his way and his peace. And that’s not here right now, but that don’t mean you’re not a part of it. You raised him to be able to find that,” he squeezed her hand once and let his fingers fall back open. She felt the warmth of his palm seep up into hers. Grace took a deep breath and focused on the warmth, letting it keep her here in the moment, with Stevie. She wasn’t sure he was right, but she did know he was trying his best to be there for her. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” Their eyes met briefly, before they both looked down at their cookies. They ate them silently, their hands still touching. They lingered over the second one, unwilling to leave this bubble Stevie built just for them.
Eventually, they had to. Grace gathered their mugs and washed them while Stevie picked up his bento, brushed the crumbs of the table and blew out the candle. It felt as if he’d taken out all the oxygen in the room with it. Grace still didn’t want to go home, but even worse, she didn’t want to leave Stevie. She cleared her throat. “You know, if you need someone to test your baking, I’ll never say no.”
“Is that right?” She was sure she didn’t imagine the relief in his voice. “Yup.”
“Alright then,” Stevie smiled at her and grabbed his bag by the door. “Same time next week?”
“Alright,” Grace smiled at him and watched him walk away. She didn’t know how the rest of her week would go, she didn’t know how she would feel when she opened the door to complete silence, but she knew she would look forward to having him all to herself next week.