thelongdormantcop | (no subject)

They wake up like this most mornings now, curled together, in one or the other's bed. Though it's been months now since they both got here, Jerry still finds that he has trouble getting used to it, despite the fact that he's pretty sure they've had just about as long, if not longer, in Darrow than they did sneaking around behind Cohen's back. He just never thought for a second, back then, that they'd get to have this. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she'd want it, no matter how logical it might have been. (It wouldn't have made sense, after all, for her to go to all that trouble and take all those risks if it were just about getting laid.) Now, even if they haven't exactly clarified what this is or what they're doing, it's at least a lot clearer now, when it couldn't have been before. That's what really matters to him.

It just makes it all the more breathtaking to wake up beside her, knowing that neither of them really has to rush off anywhere. Even on days when he has to get to the station, or when she's had work to get to, neither of them is as pressed to get out the door as she used to be, or even as he was when the squad started requiring so much of his time. They can have this now, no more hurrying to someone else or pretending like they don't wish things could be different. Strange as living in this city is, as much as there are aspects of it that he finds unsettling, even unlikable, what they've gotten in return is more than worth it. He worries more than he'd care to admit about what would have happened back in Los Angeles, but he isn't sure he'd trade this freedom for anything. They both did more than their share of fighting. They deserve the break they've gotten from that, he thinks.

Whatever else has changed, he still gets up early, too used to it not to, the sun slanting through the blinds drawn over his window. At his side, Grace is still asleep, or she looks like it, and he considers for a moment waking her, but he doesn't have the heart to. She looks too peaceful like this, too beautiful. Though he wouldn't know how to tell her so, he's long since thought that she looked best this way, without makeup, her hair a little mussed, not pretending in the slightest. Now is no exception. It keeps him from looking away from her as he starts to carefully draw himself away, not wanting to stir her, but figuring he might as well start breakfast or something. He doesn't get very far before he can't help reaching over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, chest tight as he does. "I love you," he says, soft. It's been true for a long damn time now, he thinks, and maybe he wouldn't know how to tell her directly, but there's still something almost relieving in saying so, proof in itself that it's more than true. He's goddamn crazy about her, and he can't pretend otherwise.

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"Oh, very," Grace says, fingers drifting idly along his skin. It isn't as if it really changes anything, but she doesn't care. It matters all the same, and now they have this nice peaceful morning to themselves. That might have been just as true twenty minutes ago as it is now, but it's more special than it was then, her heart lighter, her smile softer. "I wish every morning could be this nice."

"Hey, the others were alright," Jerry says, though it's not much of a protest. He knows what she means, though to that end, it's not like this is something that could be replicated, which he has to hope won't make any difference. Oh, sure, he can tell her he loves her all day, but if it's the feeling that comes with hearing it for the first time that she's looking for, that's a one-time occurrence. (He wishes, more than anything, that he could stop fucking worrying, but as rarely present as it is anymore, he thinks it might always be just in the back of his head.) "But I know what you mean."

Grace laughs, rolling over to kiss him. "The others were better than alright," she says. "But you know what I mean, yes, yes. Well, and it's not every morning we get to just lie in like this, nowhere to be. I'm just happy you don't have to hurry off to work." There's plenty more she'd like to do before he goes anywhere at all.

"Yeah," Jerry says, fingers brushing along her cheek, "me, too." In that sense, this is fairly uncommon, though at least it's not such a rarity that there'll be no chance of a repeat occurrence in the near future. Even cops have to get days off sometimes, and when he does, he can't think of any better way to spend them than like this, not having to worry about anything or anyone else, nowhere that either of them need to be, no one who'll be wondering where they are. She might be glad that he doesn't have to go off to work, but he's glad that she doesn't have to go off to be with another man. "It is nice."

For a few moments, Grace just looks up at him, smiling, soaking in the luxury of nothing to do and nowhere to be and how good it feels to just lie here with him. And then she lifts herself up just enough to kiss him, drawing him back down with her, fingers curling in his hair. Sometimes actions say a hell of a lot more than words, and she just doesn't have words for this. It's not like she's got to say anything anyway when she's sure he gets it.

As soon as her mouth meets his, Jerry leans into it, kissing her slow and deep, letting her pull him down. Like she's basically just said, there's absolutely no reason not to, and she's irresistible. Just the fact that that can be true now, that he doesn't have to fight hard to ensure that it isn't, would be reason enough to follow through anyway, his hand skimming along her side, fingers ghosting over the curve of her waist and her ribs. She's all his now, she loves him, and he isn't sure he wants that ever to stop being remarkable.