Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And so, if you look at the percentage change for murder cases from 2024 to 2025, you will see that the average has decreased by 18%..” Superintendent Jason Crawford explains, pressing the spacebar on his laptop, the slideshow changing. “Now, please understand that this is across all of Chicago. For your district,” He looks up from the laptop now, addressing the entirety of the Intelligence Unit. “You’ve had a slight increase, and that statistic has actually gone up 3%.” It’s clear she isn’t impressed with this, despite the figure being so small, pursuing her lips.

He gets ready to speak again, informing the unit on how they can lower this statistic again, but his words quickly settle into a dissatisfied pause as he glances around the room, suddenly realising that he’s pretty much the only one listening to himself hitting heavy before he speaks up. “I– sorry, but are any of you actually listening right now?” There’s a mixed series of grumbles and murmurs. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and believe me, Hank, I’m the last person who should be telling you how to run your unit, but this is important– Officer Ruzek, are you on your phone right now?”

All eyes fall to Adam, who sheepishly puts the device down. “Sorry, ‘m just checking the hockey score.” His embarrassment earns him snickers from his colleagues, but it’s Jay, sitting in front of him, who becomes his victim, and the officer rolls forward in his chair, playfully hitting him on the back of the head.

“Apologies for how my unit is acting, Crawford,” Voight interjects, his voice as gravelly as ever, shooting a quick glare to Jay and Adam, who straighten up instantly. “But I think there’s a lot more things that are currently worth our time than some statistics,” He adds mildly, stepping forward as Crawford stutters a little. All anyone in Intelligence can hope is that their leader will get them out of this pointless meeting, allow them to get back to the case they’re currently working on (a typical robbery-homicide gone wrong– something that could be solved in a mere few hours). “No offense to you, but my team knows what they’re doing. The way we work has left us successful numerous times, and if it isn’t broken, we shouldn’t fix it.”

As Crawford attempts to argue this, from across the bullpen, the others all nod in keen agreement, and he groans, admitting defeat. The sergeant continues nonetheless, raising his eyebrows as he poses the next question. “Besides, how can we bring those statistics when we’re stuck in this meeting?”

“Can’t argue with that,” Kevin supports, as Kim nods in agreement. Hailey catches Crawford’s eye, noticing her disdain for the way they’re all behaving, and all she can do is shrug.

“What? I don’t– listen–” Crawford’s tripping over his words now, losing control of the room. “That’s not even– we have to get through this so that you, as well as all other units of CPD will strive to lower these figures, and at the next review I can deliver my supervisors some good news.” He sighs, his hand shooting upwards to massage the bridge of his nose as he clicks forwards on the presentation. As he queues up the next slide, his gaze casts across the room, catching the bored and drifting expressions the unit all wear. “Right. Look, I’m not a huge fan of telling you guys how to do your job, but it has to be taken care of. I mean, look, I’m sure that– actually, you know what?” He pauses, turning towards the larger clutter of desks in front of him. “You’ve been with this unit the longest, haven’t you, Detective Halstead? Could you weigh in on this?”

“What? Sorry, I was—um, are you asking me, or...telling me?” Jay’s gaze falls over her way, his eyes pulled from wherever it was that he was looking. Blink and you’d miss it, it looked like he’d been distracted with something else, and when caught, appeared like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes are wide, something shaking him from whatever world he was previously living in.

But that’s not the issue right now. The issue is that Intelligence is refusing to cooperate in lowering the murder case statistics, as if they’re the ones going around and killing people. They all need to focus, Crawford silently hopes, and he knows these meetings are boring, even for him. If something is wrong, though, Jay would speak up; he knows that the detective is not the biggest fan of Voight, and will definitely call out any immoral behaviour.

“Well– if I can’t change your minds, I just hope that you all make the correct decisions.” Crawford’s pleading tone practically falls on deaf ears as he goes back to his laptop, closing down the powerpoint. This is a battle that he cannot win, no matter how hard he pushes.

“Have a good night, you guys– or not. I don’t care what you guys do.”

Sergeant Trudy Platt, seemingly monotone as ever, bids both Jay and Hailey goodbye from the front desk, barely glancing away from the monitor in front of her as the pair leave the district together, Jay tossing his jacket over his shoulder. Hailey waves silently to Platt, quickly stopping by the desk to mutter something to her, but he’s too far away to hear what it is. He watches as Platt glances over at him quickly, eyes widening in surprise, before going back to her work.

He doesn’t bother to see how far behind him Hailey is before he hears her catch up to him, both making their way out into the outside air. For once, the Chicago summer is in full swing, the atmosphere feeling almost sticky, the humid breeze disallowing anyone to feel cool. Jay shifts to roll his sleeves up, the fabric sticking to his skin, a small sigh escaping his throat as he looks up at the sky, the sun just beginning to set in the distance, creating a murky horizon of blues, pinks and reds.

The day has been exhausting— the combination of the mundane and needless meeting from Superintendent Jason Crawford, and the way it had felt like no time had passed since he’d clocked in left Jay with a sense of ennui. They still hadn’t closed the case they were working on, and it felt like it had been a waste of a day. It’s the sort of day that forced him to be holed up in one of the backrooms at the district without a sense of sunlight, only to be met with the disappointment of night taking over, reminding him that in a few hours he’d be back here.

(But he has to admit— the sunset was really pretty tonight. Probably one of the nicer things about Chicago, if you didn’t count the violence).

“So, what was that about today?”

“I— what are you talking about?” Jay turns to Hailey, who’s busy eyeing him suspiciously. Her words have caught him unexpectedly, her voice cutting into the silence like a knife. He pretends to not know what she’s talking about (of course, he knows— everyone saw how badly he fumbled in the bullpen earlier on), but a beat passes and he nods, abashed, a low shake of his head.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think I was in my own world,” He says it casually, hoping she buys it, but her gaze doesn’t let up and he continues to add to his lie. “I guess it’s kinda easy to lose yourself when having to listen to the same crap over and over, like, do they seriously still not trust us? We’ve been doing this for years, just leave us alone.” Jay speaks on the exhale, practically out of breath from his ramble, crossing his arms.

“No, no, I get it. But what I mean is that Crawford asked you specifically. He clearly thinks you may have some good ideas or something.” Hailey’s voice is gentle, as they begin to walk away from the precinct.

Jay exhales slowly. “Hey, I don’t need you to butter me up..” He catches her raise her eyebrow at him suggestively. “I mean, I know I have good ideas, but I don’t want to be like Voight and running something like Intelligence. I know I could, but it’s all so..”

“Corrupt?” She interjects.

“Yeah? Yeah. And I know we have our times when we fool around on the job, but I just wish that the others would take it more seriously sometimes, even for like, five seconds. Sometimes I wish I could just go back into the reserves, or just.. I don’t know, start from a fresh slate, away from Voight’s fucked-up one.”

Hailey stops mid-step. “Well, I care,” She’s looking directly at him now, both of them in the middle of the pavement, the summer air lazily breezing by. “And I mean that. It’s okay to want something a little more sane, and not ‘oh, let’s bury this guy in the Silos for killing someone else’. Look, you were one of the first people here at the district to let me in, even when you were dealing with your breakup from Erin,” He can feel himself wince a little at the mention of his ex’s name. “You shouldn’t give a shit about what others think, especially Vought, because hey, who is he to say anything about morals? I know you’re doing a lot, being his right-hand man, but at the end of the day, all the boring stuff is just as important. Hey, we can’t always be near-death and going on crazy adventures, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean you. You always care— you still care, even when I go off and put us in danger, you’re still there.” Jay’s on the tail-end of her words the moment that Hailey finishes. There’s some underlying reassurance to his voice, a hidden layer, as he tries to match his partner’s tone. “But even if you didn’t I’d get it. It’s fine. I don’t need people to listen to me, y’know? I’m not insecure about what people have to say, I’m just here to do my job.”

Yeah, I know that,” Hailey teases, playfully nudging his shoulder. They’ve resumed walking again, almost reaching their cars. To a normal passerby, they must look like they’re moving at a snail’s pace, but to them, they feel like they have all the time in the world. “But shit– you looked like a deer in headlights today when Crawford called you out..” For a moment, the female detective stops, and her words shift from a long-form prose of sympathy to caught concern as she looks towards Jay. “You looked– I dunno. You looked like the time that Platt had to tell Mouch about going to Canada for a wedding, but she didn’t know about his vendetta for the country, and I was going to see if you were alright, but then Crawford convened the meeting and– whatever, I’m rambing, but– are you okay? Like, not just in general, but– everything?”

“I– yeah, everything is fine, Hails. It’s not about you. Everything is just peachy,” Jay laughs, albeit awkwardly, leaning on the hood of his car. He can feel the canned smile on his face, and he knows that she can definitely see it, as her brows furrow. “Seriously. If it was major, I’d say something, but it isn’t. So there.”

“So, you won’t mind if I call bullshit on that in five, four, three..”

“What– Hailey, it’s nothing. I mean, it’s not some life-altering event, and it’s barely– c’mon. Really,” Jay fails to reason, as Hailey narrows her eyes, standing directly opposite him now, hands on her hips. “It’s just– no, really, it’s dumb.”

“Two..” She resumes counting down, fingers raised. It’s like she can see through him; she sees right into his core, trying to find this secret he’s so determined to hold onto.

“Fine, but it really is stupid, ‘kay?”

“Nothing you say is dumb, but go. I’m waiting.” She replies, shifting on one foot to the other, almost impatient to know. She’s hungry for this secret.

“Fine. This morning, before I even came into work, Will texted me. And– before you say anything, ‘cause I know you’re gonna say something, it’s– nothing’s wrong, but I guess I was kinda surprised, since.. well, y’know. ”Jay sighs through the last part, and on the introduction of his family into the conversation, Hailey’s brows furrow slightly before she motions for him to continue. “Anyways, Will said that he and Nat have decided to, rather impulsively, tie the knot. And he wants me there, as well as the rest of our family. It’s gonna be some big thing at The Crystal Gardens or something, I don’t know,” Jay sighs, hands stuffed into his pockets and gaze pointedly away at the floor.

A beat passes. Then another.

At this point, Jay doesn’t think Hailey is going to say anything, as he watches her face contort into many different emotions.

However, “So, is this a shotgun or ‘Drunk in Vegas’ type of wedding?” is not the initial response he expects.

She must see his grimacing look and quickly tries to correct herself. “I mean, shit, I’m glad they worked out their issues? I– I don’t know what the expected reply is meant to be to something like that,” She admits, a shrug in her shoulders. “So, aside from the fact that they’re attempting to get married, again, what’s the bad news?” Hailey’s expression is hard to read, especially under the fresh moonlight, as she shifts to set her bag against the ground, joining Jay on the hood of his car.

For a woman who had only ever met his brother (and even then could Will be a handful), there was plenty that Jay still withheld from her and even so, Hailey had never pressed him for details; if there was anything she did know, it was that there was always more bad blood and drama in Jay’s family that outweighed the good.

“Well, that’s the thing. The kinda-bad news is that the invitation says that I can bring a plus-one. And pretty much everyone in my family, and of course Nat’s, have somebody, so I’m gonna feel pretty awkward rocking up alone..” He trails off, cringing inwardly at himself. He feels like he’s fourteen and asking Melissa McCormick to junior prom all over again.

“..As like, a date, or a human sacrifice?” Hailey’s question is flat, the edge of confusion in her words probably just as practical as they are ridiculous. He knows it’s probably an attempt to clear the air, to make himself feel better at his lack of a partner (because, hey, how the hell is he almost thirty-four and his brother, of all people, is beating him to the altar?), but it doesn’t help. It just feels like salt in a wound.

“No, as a date, Hails.”

Another beat of silence. It’s clear that Hailey is filling in the blanks, probably coming to the same inevitable conclusions as Jay, before she nods slowly, thoroughly, as she finally finishes processing this information.

“So, let me get this straight,” She turns to him fully now. “You’re expected to bring some girl to Will and Natalie’s impromptu wedding, that could possibly not happen again, but 1) you’re single, and 2) everyone in both sides of the family is somehow taken?” She’s counting these conclusions off her fingers, her voice rising in surprise by the end. She points out the obvious without a second thought to it– then again, it’s not as if it’s really a secret. “I guess– I just don’t really get it. Is this, like, a reference to something? If it really matters to you, can’t you just ask someone? And– why the fuck do you have to take someone anyway? You should get an extra slice of cake no matter what.”

“It’s not– it’s fine, Hails, just forget I brought it up. It’s probably, like, Nat just wants the photos to be even, y’know, and for me not to be standing alone or whatever. And I mean, I tried asking around the district, but nobody seemed that interested, well, except for Platt, but I don’t think Mouch would appreciate that–”

“Wait. You asked people to go with you to The Crystal Gardens for free, and the only catch was that they had to pretend– not, like, an actual thing, but just pretend– to be your girlfriend for what, two hours a day? Where’s the fucking catch?” Each word Hailey says is practically swallowed on its own as she sounds the words out. She clearly can’t understand how anyone said ‘no’ to him, for some reason; Jay can understand why, and it’s probably due to his brother being Will fucking Halstead, but he doesn’t understand the outcry. “How did everyone you ask say no? Have you not seen the way that some of the female rookies look at you?”

“I– There’s no catch! I asked everyone– and what do you mean, ‘the way the female rookies look at you’?” Jay stumbles and stutters over his words, unable to keep up with her.

“Everyone?” Hailey really emphasises her reply this time, hands delicately placed on his biceps. “You’re telling me that you spoke to everyone, and— and they all said no?” She repeats herself again, almost like she can’t believe it, like she’s trying to give him a chance to shift his answer. But it’s the truth; nobody really seemed too interested in pretending to be his date for a wedding.

“Look, you know I’m bad at puzzles—“

“What— you didn’t even ask me, Jay, and we’re literally partners.”

For a second, a tiny, minuscule second, there’s a pregnant pause between them. Jay’s confused expression meeting Hailey’s exasperated eyes. It went without saying, of course, that it was easy to guess why he hadn’t asked her. In fact, it hadn’t even come across as a possibility; the concept of his partner being her fake date at the small expense of dealing with some Irish-Catholic assholes was the front runner of something inexplicable to them, something unspoken. He didn’t press her for details on her family, and vice versa.

It’s another moment before Jay speaks again, voice cautious. “Are you really that upset that I didn’t invite you?”

“I mean, sort of? Obviously, I get why you wouldn’t want to, but— I don’t know— it would’ve been nice.”

I— okay,” Jay pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling. “The only reason I didn’t ask you is ‘cause my relatives aren’t the greatest people. And I know I’ve told you about my dad before, but this is.. different? Sometimes it feels like religion on crack with some of them,” He shakes his head, not wanting to delve into the specifics. “Look, Hails, I mean it. I know that we’ve had a lot going on recently, and I’m asking you, as your friend, if you really think doing this is a good idea. Not— not just for me, but for you, too. I want whatever’s best for you, and if that means not having some date to my brother’s wedding that may or may not happen, that’s cool, too. As long as you’re good. That’s what I want.” Jay’s voice is a little softer than it’d been before, juggling through the touchy topic of his family and his indifferent feelings for his partner.

(Because, hey, he doesn’t have feelings for her. No way. And besides, she doesn’t date coworkers).

At the end of the day, they both know that there’s no sense in beating around the bush that their partnership meant more to them than anything. It’s something they can’t afford to mess up. It’s hardly been two months since the incidents surrounding that of Hailey going on loan to the FBI, and whilst she had come back to Intelligence, it didn’t take a genius to know that they’d both been through the ringer.

It also doesn’t take a genius to realise that they don’t talk about their fleeting romances, or that they don’t talk about their relationship too much, either. On both fronts, they don’t need to. They know where they stand with each other.

“Jay. You’ve been there for me for more times than I can count. I can do this one thing for you.” Hailey reassures him, and it’s the most sure of something that she had sounded in weeks, voice stronger than stone as she settles her gaze to match his own.

“Are you sure?” Jay raises his eyebrows at her. “I’m telling you now, it’s either going to be a shitshow, or a decent event.”

“Hey, I’m doing this for the free cake, not you.”

“Hmm, okay, okay– wait, look at this one!” Hailey laughs, shoving her phone towards Kim and Platt, her laugh bright in the dingy bullpen. Presented upon the screen is a screengrab of an oversized blazer dress, complete with flowing sleeves and oversize, gold rose buttons. If anything, it’s gaudy, but probably the right thing for Hailey to wear in order to fit in with Jay’s family. Since being invited to the wedding as a plus-one, she’s spent a majority of her time looking for the perfect outfit– something flashy, yet modest.

“No,” Kim immediately shoots her down, eyes widening in distaste at the dress. “That is.. yikes.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “It’s very..”

“..Ugly? Bold?” Platt supplies, eyebrows raised suggestively, as she squints at the screen to take a closer look.

“I think you’re having too much fun with this.”

Instead of focusing on the case in front of them (which, really could’ve been open and shut by now, if Crawford hadn’t shown up yesterday), the two officers are putting together a timeline for Hailey and Jay’s fake yet very real relationship; and only now has Platt joined in on the fun, having some interesting, albeit inane, suggestions. It had felt like they’d been at this for hours– and hey, maybe it had been, but the guys had left to knock on doors or something, leaving the women unattended, or maybe time hadn’t passed at all and they were missing an actually important arrest or something– and even then, the cover story was barely done. Hailey’s unsure on how much his family will pry, and Jay hadn’t given her much to work off of. He’s never had a serious enough relationship with anyone to introduce them to his family (and all the baggage that comes with them). Then again, it wasn’t like all the details had to line up and be perfect, right? As long they played it right, they could pull it off.

“Okay, I think this is the last of it,” Platt huffs, going to the printer a final time and pulling something out– it’s a series of photos of the two detectives, all from various other photos where other members of Intelligence have been (hastily) photoshopped or cropped out. It’s not the best work from the Sergeant, but it’ll do. She begins to cut along the edges of the paper, ready to glue them into her little pet project. To make the lie more believable (and much to Jay’s dismay), she’s created the ‘couple’ a scrapbook. “And anyone who asks for more than that is kind of a sociopath. God, if this doesn’t convince his family, I don’t know what will,” She grins at her handiwork. “Oh, this is beautiful. Seriously, girls, I mean it. And Hailey, you better let me keep this afterwards.”

Hailey can’t help but laugh. “Sure, sure. You and Mouch can pretend you have adopted kids or something.”

The Sergeant shoots her a playful glare. “Haha, funny. And not that they’re probably going to even ask for a picture, but Jay needs to have one in his wallet. Uh, here– how about this one?”

Platt sets down the scissors as she picks another picture up from where it’d been halfway hidden by the binder, one of the smaller ones that had been printed to fill in the white spots of the other pictures. It’s a little more intimate than the others– it’s the two detectives smiling and laughing at Antonio Dawson’s birthday from a few years back, Hailey’s hair longer and Jay looking younger. In the picture, Jay’s hand was slung around the small of her waist, a shimmery gold slip dress over her form. It was undeniable that they looked happy together, and there was a dark-red lipstick mark against his cheek.

“Wow,” Kim breathes, as if she’s impressed with how flawlessly they’ve pulled this off, like the two have been planning this for years. “You guys look..”

“...really drunk?” Platt finishes for the officer. “I know. But believe me, if you think this is drunk, you should see me and Randy at New Years."

The trio work efficiently yet tirelessly to finish the scrapbook (and also the last of the research for the case) over the course of the next couple hours, the Sergeant a little more focused on it than the others. There’s something odd, and a little unhinged, about making a fake relationship scrapbook between you and a co-worker, but once they finish, it looks like they have one hell of a love for each other. By the time they’re done, the others are back, and they all gather around Platt, who proudly shows off her pet project, going into weirdly specific detail for each photo. Jay’s perched on the edge of Hailey’s desk, shooting her a look of disbelief every now and then, and she can’t help but to chuckle in response.

“Okay, photos aside, though,” Adam coughs, getting the attention of everyone in the bullpen. “Have you guys done, like, a 20 Questions thing? Y’know, so your answers line up?”

“Yeah, we have,” Jay replies without hesitation, which is news to Hailey. “The story is that we’ve been together seven months, and I asked Hailey out after a near-death accident on the job ‘cause I had a sudden realisation that life is short, or some shit.”

Hailey nods in agreement, even if she’s only hearing this plan for the first time. “I wouldn’t say exactly that ‘life is short, or some shit’, but– I think we should say that we’ve been together for more, like, nearly a year or so,” She adds, her words slightly soft as she picks at a hangnail on her finger. “Makes us sound like we’re more serious then.”

“Well, as long as you don’t say your first date was a coffee shop or something, I think y’all are good.” Kevin muses, leaning back in his desk chair. The others around him mutter and nod. “Feels a little stereotypical if you do. Like, everyone expects something like a first date like that.”

Hailey narrows her eyes as she glances at Jay, who meets her grim expression, trying to work on the realism in their story.

“Yeah. No offense to Hails, but that’s the last place I’d take her. First, ‘cause you think that’s too cheesy and you hate rom-coms,” He begins, and he smiles, thinking of something better (and probably more believable). “But I would take you somewhere nice, and meaningful. Somewhere you would’ve liked, like– oh, that Greek place downtown, the one that does the gyros you like.”

He’s met with surprised and bemused expressions.

“..What?”

“Well, I think we’re gonna ignore the fact that you know so much about her, dude,” Adam answers for everyone, as he practically chucks the scrapbook at the detective (and Platt cries about her ‘baby’). “Why you’re so good at this, who knows, but you’re like, built for this romantic stuff. How the hell did everyone say no to you?”

Jay shrugs. “They just did, I guess.”

Hailey grins darkly, stretching her legs out in front of her, as the guys continue to banter about Jay’s love life, the warm expanse of the crewneck practically swallowing her. She shifts as the conversation moves back to the story. “So, first date to a restaurant, then maybe the theatre or something? I don’t know, is that too classy?”

“Probably, but it sounds good,” Jay responds. “It does sound classy, but kinda believable. I am an adult, after all.”

“Hm, debatable.” Platt murmurs.

Hailey ignores her, rolling her eyes. “I think we should say that,” She finalises, tapping her fingers against her desk. “I mean, we can work out the rest of the details tomorrow– it’s late enough. We just cross out my family history, both of our dating histories, and.. yep, we’re done. Anything else we should make up?” She’s addressing the group, but the question is more for Jay than anyone else. His opinion is the only one she cares about right now.

“I mean, I don’t think so,” Jay pauses as his voice shifts in tone, swallowing thickly, holding onto the scrapbook still. He breezes over the pages. “There’s just– I don’t know. There’s a lot that they could ask. What about future plans between us? They’ll probably expect you to know that shit.”

“I– I don’t know about that,” Hailey laughs awkwardly. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her, awaiting an answer. She doesn’t have one. “I mean, who asks? If your family is traditional and stuff, shouldn’t you be in charge of all that? I’ll let you lead on that one. And at the end of the day, you get to impress the rest of your family, I get a free trip to The Crystal Gardens, and if we’re lucky, they’ll eat this orthodox crap up.”

“Are you sure?” The detective eyes her nervously, like he doesn’t believe her. Hell, she’s not sure she believes herself right now. But, hey, she’s got (minimal) experience in acting, even if it was, like, four lessons in college.

“Hey. We’re saving the lying for your folks, aren’t we?”

Chapter Text

As it turns out, there’s a lot more hassle in being invited to a wedding than one would have originally imagined, even if you knew the couple, which is somehow simultaneously confusing and apparent.

Of course, it isn’t like Hailey is afraid of the Halstead family. She’s familiar enough with Will and the boys’ father, Pat, and she’s sure that the extended family can’t be any more.. eccentric than them. From what Jay’s told her, it seems that they share a single consciousness that centers around republicanism, football, and religion, and there’s part of her that would bet good money that they will more than likely assume her to be either a server at the reception rather than Jay’s “girlfriend”.

Regardless, the ideologies of these people had become clear to her once she’d seen the invitation, the words conventional attire screaming at her– of course, anything out of the ordinary for these people would probably give them a heart attack. And as much as she wants to do her own thing and wear what she wants, she knows she can’t. She can’t do that to her partner.

So it’s fitting for her that Hailey decides to wait until five days before the wedding to dress-shop, and maybe it’s even more fitting that Kim had decided to help out. During their day off, they head to some boutique in downtown Chicago, known for its more traditional clothing, Jay in tow to approve of what his family wouldn’t stick their noses up at. With everything she tries on, she can feel herself grow more frustrated as all her options get shot down.

“What I don’t understand, still, is how everyone said ‘no’ to you, and now you’re stuck with Hailey for this weird arrangement thing.” Kim sinks back into an antique chaise lounge just outside the dressing room; it smells musty and old, like an old lady’s house. Jay rests against the wall.

“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” Hailey blurts out from behind the dressing room curtain. It shifts and flows outward as she shoves herself into another ridiculously formal dress– the drab golden shade of yellow doesn’t compliment her skin well, and the ruffles that go diagonal down the maxi-dress make her feel like a sentient curtain. None of the outfits she has tried on are like any of the dresses or outfits she was viewing when Platt was making the scrapbook. They’re all fairly mute in colour, and rather concealing. “You make it sound, like, I’m giving him my soul or some shit,” She takes a final look in the mirror, grimacing. “Which, I’m not. I’m a plus-one.”

“And last I checked, a plus-one doesn’t mean fake girlfriend.”

Hailey rolls her eyes at the officer’s comment, before she pulls back the curtain, the pair in front of her pulling faces that matched her own mere seconds ago. Before anything is even said, it’s a clear no-go. She gives a slow twirl, the long skirt flowing sadly around her. She doesn’t know what to do with her arms, either, letting them hang limply by her sides.

“God,” She sighs, already scraping at her back to take it off, the sleeves slipping off one of her shoulders and exposing her bra strap. “I can already tell how bad it is by your expressions. It’s not giving ‘hey, i’m here with my partner at a super catholic wedding’, is it?”

Kim coughs. “Well, I don’t think conservatives like the term ‘partner’ too much, probably too gender-neutral for them, and I think the last thing you should do is give anyone in Jay’s family an aneurysm– no offense, Jay,” She pauses for a moment, looking at the detective, who silently nods, brushing off the comment. “Anyways, do you want my opinion or not?”

“..Yeah, obviously? Hailey raises a confused eyebrow at her, fingers caught on the skirt as she plays with the fabric awkwardly, smoothing it back out after a moment. “I feel so.. covered up, I don’t know. It feels like I’m wearing a blanket. Jay, does this look stupid?”

Since she’d opened the curtain, Jay had been distracted by something, not entirely there in the moment. And she couldn’t blame him; he was a guy, so this was probably the equivalent of pulling teeth. But it’s only then does she notice it, the way his eyes seem hazy and distant, not bothering to think too hard about where his eyeline currently is.

If she had paid more attention, she would’ve seen exactly what he was looking at.

“Uh, I think it looks good on you,” Jay reassures her quickly, crossing his arms against his chest. “Reminds me of something from The Great Gatsby, though.”

It’s the last thing Hailey considers a compliment, but it seems that Jay believes it’s a good one, a low groan from both women as they shake their heads in disbelief. She shuffles close to the pair, hands running over the silky skirt, finding pockets– seriously, who the fuck put pockets on this thing?

“Well, it’s not you, it’s the dress, more than anything,” Kim sighs, running a hand through her hair. “But everything here is just so.. bleh. I mean, it’s not communion or anything! Why don’t you try the flower one I pulled? That one was pretty.”

“The, uh, silk one?” Hailey disappears once again, fumbling through the choices that were picked out for her, eventually finding the one in reference. It’s definitely different to the rest, and it doesn’t make her want to gouge her eyes out.

“Yeah– and it’s satin, not– just humour us,” Kim huffs, crossing her arms. They’ve been at this for over an hour, and yet, nothing so far has stuck out. Perhaps it’s the detective’s own choosiness, or the fact that all of them are sad and make her feel too warm (it’s summer, for crying out loud), but it doesn’t change the fact that she knows little to nothing about fashion. She’s fine with her own fashion choices– a nice flannel or something, some good jeans, and that’s as much effort that she’ll put in for work. Occasionally, she’ll dress-up, but even then, it’s nothing too extreme. However, now, the glitter on some is too flashy, but the ones without make her look mormon. Feathers and bright colours are an absolute no-go, with Jay stating that she looks like a parrot, but anything too autumnal just blends into her complexion.

It’s fucking frustrating, to say the least.

“So, back to this dating thing; lemme get this straight,” Kim changes the subject once again, her knees crossed over the other. Her questions are more geared towards Jay than Hailey, and it wouldn’t be surprising if she suddenly starts pressing him for information like they do to suspects in an interrogation. “I mean, are you guys dating, or dating?”

Jay cocks his head to the side. “There’s a difference?”

“Yeah, there is. One implies that you guys are dating, and the other implies that you’re full of shit and people will definitely see through it. Just because you’re a good cop, it doesn’t mean you’re a good liar.”

“—Oh! No, we’re– we’re, um, fake-dating. For my folks,” Jay attempts to clarify, an awkward laugh escaping his lips. From inside the dressing room, Hailey resists the urge to say something, completely buried in silk, or satin, or whatever material was currently trying to kill her. Eventually she manages to pull it over her head, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, I don’t think there’s actually that much difference, Kim. All it is, is that we’re dating, but not dating, and none of this is real,” He finishes explaining, trying not to overcomplicate it. If anything, it does overcomplicate it, and his reasoning sounds slightly inane.

“I– what’s so complicated about it?” Hailey blurts out from the dressing room before her partner can say anything else. “This is just a case of classic mutualism. I’m doing something that helps him, and in return, I get to go to some swanky place for free. It’s really not, like, a huge fucking thing.”

“But you’re dating in front of his family?” Kim’s voice is skeptical as she stares towards Jay, who only shrugs in response.

“Yeah, but it’s not really dating!” Hailey sighs loudly, exasperated by having to explain this plan yet again. How hard is it to understand?

She fumbles around for a moment, zipping the current dress she wears up, a little jump to help the process (spoiler: it doesn’t help, instead making the mirror in front of her shake). The solitude of the dressing room surrounds her as she takes a final look at herself in the mirror and, for once, she’s surprised. Her face contorts from annoyed, to neutral, to something entirely unfamiliar to her.

The dress is somehow as beautiful on her as it had been hanging up, and actually made her feel good about herself– something she hadn’t felt since she started her shopping adventure. It fit well, the deep red colour complemented the floral design of burgundy, almost black, flowers peppering the dress. Against the soft tan of her skin, the smooth material was slightly tight, ruched at the sides, but nevertheless, it hugged her figure, and didn’t fit like a sack (compared to some of the other dresses). The rounded neck and long sleeves finished it off, with little details of lace around her wrists and the bottom of the long skirt that finalised the look, flowing ever so gently.

“Until they expect you to do something,” Kim replies briskly, snapping Hailey out of the trance she was in. “I mean, you never know, sometimes Catholics can be a little weird, nevermind the fact that they’re probably Republican– hey, are you nearly done in there?”

“Uh– yeah– I think I like this one the most. I’m just– hold on.” She pauses, and there’s a strange quietness as she looks at herself in the mirror again, socked feet spinning on the hardwood floor like a child trying on their mother’s clothing and playing dress-up, feeling like a princess. She’s never really known that feeling, though.

She graces over her features, not criticising her flaws (for once), as she finds the smallest of smiles on her face. It’s strange to see someone looking back at her, someone she doesn’t entirely recognise. She feels like a brand new person.

“Oh, come on!” Kim sings, practically begging, but the detective isn’t listening. Her fingers are still running over the dress, a sheer, fleeting moment of panic washing over. It’s too expensive. Red reminds her of blood. The ruched sides are too itchy. Jay hasn’t seen it, and neither has Kim, and maybe that’s the best part of this– it’s only hers to know.

Besides, she doesn’t deserve nice things anyway.

So, in true Hailey fashion, she shakes it off her bare shoulders, almost yanking it from her body and sets it back on the hanger. She doesn’t need something new; she probably has something in the depths of her wardrobe she can wear.

“No– it’s– I’m just gonna get dressed,” Hailey tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, longingly staring at the dress. “Uh, Jay, can you tell the sales assistant we’re done?” She can hear him move away, and the distant noise of quiet chatter enveloping the small store. She pulls her flannel back on, tucking the front of it into her jeans, and waits a few seconds, certain that only the officer is outside the changing room.

“I know this is weird, even weirder than what you and Adam have,” She mutters flatly. “You don't have to say it.” And though part of her slightly hopes that Kims isn’t listening, she knows she is.

“I– it’s not weird, per se, but this is new stuff for you,” Kim grins as the detective pulls the curtain back, awkwardly shuffling the rest of the dresses into her arms. “I mea, what’re you guys going to do if they expect you to kiss, or hold hands, or something?”

“Listen. If something happens, we’ll– actually, you know what? Fuck it. I mean, I’m not twelve. I could kiss Jay.” Hailey shrugs, trying to be as convincing as possible, but she can tell the officer can see right through her. “It would only be a kiss, and honestly, we probably– no, Kim, seriously. It won’t happen. They’re probably weird Puritans about showing affection outside of, like, wedlock or something.”

“..But that’s not you saying no on kissing him,” Kim shrugs, eyebrows raised as she extends her arms to help carry some of the dresses. “Like, you’d really do it? Not to, I don’t know, try and prove something weird about yourself? No offence, but that’s sort of on par for you..”

“What– no, and what are we, five? I’m not suddenly changing my answer because you’re going all psychological on me– save that shit for Dr. Charles,” Hailey mutters. “Look, even if we have to kiss, or hold hands, or.. whatever, nothing between us will change. We’re partners; we’ve gone undercover together and shit. It’s just like that, but without criminals.” Her voice falls a little strained on the last part, arms outstretched as she begins to make her way to the front of the store, the officer following close behind.

“Hey, there’s no time limit on falling for your partner,” The officer sighs. “Not saying you have to be like Adam and I, but honestly? I think you’d guys would be cute together.”

It’s the first time that Hailey stops in her tracks. She smirks as she takes in her friend’s opinion, letting the information melt into her brain like butter. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“I just love how funny you are.”

If there was anything that Hailey had learned about going on vacation, it was that getting ready to leave was kind of a bitch.

(Nevermind the fact that she still hadn’t exactly told Voight, unlike Jay who had, and she was due to leave in less than four hours).

It wasn’t the clothes, as that had been easy– Kim had let her borrow some of her summer dresses and some nice blouses that were good for a rehearsal dinner. And the only other wedding she had been to in her life was her cousin’s, and even that she’d forgotten by now, having happened almost twelve years ago. Really, as far as the detective was concerned, the rest of the situation would take care of itself.

However, the worst part of it all wasn’t even relatable to the normal person, something only specific to her.

“So,” Voight huffs, a small smirk of amusement on his face. She’d expected him to say ‘no’, that she’s too valuable to the team to risk losing to a ridiculous vacation, but he had simply accepted it. “You’re presenting yourself to Jay’s family in order to make it seem as if he’s settled down, and in return, you are– what, attempting to escape work, even after Platt and I have both begged you to take time off, in order to keep up some mindless charade?” He laughs. “I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed.. this is stupid, even for you, Hailey.”

She doesn’t respond, glancing around his office in silence and trying to think of something clever to say. She comes up empty.

“You’re enjoying this too much, aren’t you?” She eventually murmurs, running her hands over her jeans, her palms slightly sweaty. She’s embarrassed that it’s taken her so long to get here, to tell Voight about this ridiculous plan, but she’s doing it now, no time to back out. There’s a case file for one of her informants in her lap, something she’s been looking at every now and then, wanting to leave it with her Sergeant– it’d be a shitstorm to come back to if she just lets this informant do whatever without her supervision, so she’s choosing to leave the case with him. “I don’t need your opinion. I’m doing it because I want to, and ultimately, I’m a good partner. End of.”

Hailey’s not entirely sure where she’s going with this, feeling like she’s just talking out of her ass more than anything, but it seems to get a stir from Voight, who lets out a low sigh, possibly from the stress of losing not one, but two detectives, and now having to track an informant that he could care less about. She extends her legs out in front of her, fingers running through her messy hair.

“Well, this.. story gets far more funny every time, does it not? Hailey, this cannot end the way you think it will,” Her boss muses. “Maybe I should come. I think it would be a great time for me to catch up with Will.”

“What, after you almost got him killed being your informant?” She replies drily, much to the displeasure of Voight, who shoots her a half-amused glare. “No offense, Sarge, but you’re not the most charismatic.”

“I’d behave well,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t talk about The Cage.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, but it lasts only about two seconds, before Voight begins to speak again, motioning at his office door. “Right, let’s properly talk about this, then.” His words are as cryptic as his current emotions are, and Hailey can’t help but to furrow her brows in confusion.

“What–” Besides Voight himself and her, the only other people who ever came into this office were Platt, occasional higher-ups to check in, and Jay. It’s just how it was, and something she didn’t mind. It wasn’t to say the others in Intelligence were barred from coming in, but there seemed to be some unspoken rule that the office was reserved for the more experienced and senior workers. It also went without saying that Voight hated anyone in his office for prolonged periods of time, but her and Jay were basically the only exceptions of the rule– they never made it awkward, or feel like there was a need to have some half-assed small-talk with him. In a way, it was nice.

The door quietly creaks open as Hailey stands up, deciding this is her time to leave, the file just as much an excuse to claim that was all she was in there for. It doesn’t surprise her, though, to see Jay come through the doors, footsteps sounding heavy against the linoleum floor, his army boots beating an indistinct rhythm. Her eyes flit towards the door before she silently nods a greeting at him.

“Getting up to anything fun here?” Jay hums, a poor attempt at humour– he must sense the unspoken tension in the office.

“Depends,” Hailey begins, before Voight can continue his tirade of making her miserable. “You ever been a big fan of informants who don’t give you anything good because they don’t think it’s relevant?” She teases as she sits on the arm of the sofa. “Just being productive before I take my leave of absence.”

“You mean your holiday?” Voight comments, a shit-eating grin on his face. The detectives ignore him, internally rolling their eyes.

“Oh yeah, that’s the dream right there,” Jay replies sarcastically. “We’re totally taking time off to just have a very relaxing holiday, and not actually to keep up appearances. Besides,” He now turns to Hailey, arms crossed. “Everything will be fine when we’re gone. The team can handle it without us.” It’s a good attempt at reassurance, and it’s strange, at least to Hailey, how easy it comes to him– almost as if it were nothing, he knew what to say all the same. “I mean it.”

“Compliments do not make you a better fake-boyfriend,” Voight mutters, ever-so just loud enough for the detectives to hear. His eyes shift from boy to girl, man to woman, before turning to surprise. A hasty recollection of something falls over his face, suddenly sitting up straight and rattling a desk drawer. “However, I do have something for the two of you. Might be useful on your trip.”

Jay and Hailey share a look, then move in closer. Voight pauses as he shifts his hand beneath the lip of the desk– it’s directly below the main countertop, a secret drawer, hidden out of plain sight. Neither knew it was there. The Sergeant wrestles with it for a moment, yanking hard to open it, and eventually he gets it open. The contents of the drawer aren’t exactly organised, several folders and envelopes crammed inside, varying in sizes and colours, all decorated with hastily-written labels.

“Damn,” Jay muses. Hailey has to hide her smile with her hand. “Did you put that together yourself?”

“The drawer? No shit, IKEA.” Voight grumbles back. He rummages through it, then pulls out a small envelope, dumping the contents out on the already-cluttered desk. The small pile consists of photos, sharpie-penned dates either on the front or back, all spanning over the past two years.He pauses, hand hovering over the pile, before he selects one at random, grinning lowly. In the photo stands Jay and Hailey, both looking like they’ve de-aged about five years, Alvin in the middle of them. They look like they’ve been caught red-handed; the detectives are smiling, but also as if they’re fearing for their lives, whilst Al isn’t even looking at the camera, as if whatever is off-screen is more interesting.

“Some of these are better than the ones you have,” Voight explains to them, as they pore over them. “When Al died, Trudy found them when she cleared out his desk. Not sure why he had them– he may have had a bunch more, but who the fuck knows. I kept on to them because I thought they may be useful in the future– for blackmail ro something, who ufcking knows. But there are some great ones.” He teases, picking up another photo. Jay chooses one from the bottom of the pile, hidden by various photos of Adam caught off-guard.

“Oh my god,” Jay groans as he studies the photo in his hand. “Why do you have this?” Hailey stands up on her toes, just peering over his shoulder to see what he’s looking at. The photo is of him and Erin, it must’ve been before she left, both looking happy, his arm around his shoulder. For some reason, and it’s entirely odd and inexplicable, but she feels her heart deflate a little at it. There must’ve been some reason for Voight to keep it, and she slightly hopes that it’s because the man misses her.

“Oh, wow, Jay, that beard,” Hailey comments, trying not to let her sadness show. There’s some stifled amusement as she pretends to take his appearance seriously. “I mean– yeah, no. Maybe the beard is working for me?” She gasps. “Should I be feeling something right now?”

“Yeah? I was thinking of bringing it back,” Luckily, Jay doesn’t pick up on her emotions, and instead his energy rises to match her’s. “Just wanted to let you know, in case you only work with people who don’t have beards.”

Voight rolls his eyes. “If you bring it back, I’ll have you transferred to Internal Affairs.” He goes back to observing the photos, blissfully ignoring the two detectives’ banter.

“Oh, you wanna ditch me now? You know, I’ve never had a partner want to stop working with me, I’m that good of a detective.” Hailey’s eyes narrow as she turns to her partner, gaze intent as she moves in closer, the space closing between them.

“Oh, yeah?” Jay can barely contain his grin as he also leans in, the photo in his hand softly dropping to the desk.

“Yeah,” Another inch. She raises her eyebrows, amused and eager. “Although I wouldn’t–”

Voight’s voice interrupts them. “I have another photo here for you, Jay.”

And before there’s anything to make of their banter, Jay pulls away, hand brushing against Hailey’s, as Voight passes him the photo. Hailey studies his face, watching as his grin fades, replaced by confusion. Whatever it is, it’s unsettling for him. She can’t see through the thick, glossy card, but she catches the date; eight months before she started, two months before he and Erin broke up.

It’s obvious almost instantly why it upsetted him. It should’ve been obvious before. A warm wave of nausea in her stomach rolls over, like a violent wave.

“Er– you okay?” She asks him. He must feel the eyes on him, as he looks up, startled, a deer in headlights, then he coughs awkwardly, before shoving it into his pocket. Jay looks from her to Voight, then back at her.

“Yeah– no, it’s just–”

Voight, blunt as ever, fills in the gaps for Hailey. “It was a photo of–” His response lasts about three seconds before Jay shuts it down, cheeks turning slightly pink.

“It’s nothing,” His voice is quieter now, all amusement gone. He swallows thickly as he shakes his head. “It’s just– it doesn’t matter, ‘kay?”

Hailey can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, so she doesn’t push it. “Oh, um, okay.” She turns herself back to the desk, collecting up the photos into a neat pile, running her hand over the edges. She’s hoping for a papercut, something to distract herself.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop it. Stop—whatever you’re doing. It’s a fucking picture.

“Yeah,” Jay’s voice has turned monotone. “Just.. stuff.” He turns away from Hailey and Voight, beginning to head out from the office.

Jay’s former feelings for his ex-partner shouldn’t matter. This isn't the time to be sentimental– they’ve got bigger things to worry about.

And memories of a past that wasn’t even hers are none of her concern.