Imagine Jeffrey Dean Morgan

Overprotective- Joe Merriweather

Title: Overprotective

Character: Joe Merriweather

Movie: Solace

Warnings: None

Photo/GIF credits go to the original maker/owner

Blindly reaching over for my cup, I brought it to my lips only to frown at the lack of coffee in it.

The smell of the hazelnut creamer was still strong, but that wouldn't get me through the night.

“Damnit,” I cursed.

I was working on a case that my husband and I were put on, and I truly didn't want to get up from my desk.

“Here, Y/N,” Joe came into my office, placing a fresh cup on my desk.

“I knew I married you for a reason,” I smiled, pouring the hot liquid into my cup.

I blew on it before taking a sip. Sighing, I pointed at my cup, nodding, “Yup… Definitely married you because of this,”

Joe laughed, shaking his head as he sat on my desk.

“Love you too, baby,”

I blew him a kiss as I picked up a piece of paper.

“Find out anything new?”

I rubbed my head in frustration, “No. I've gone over this rape and autopsy report at least ten times and none of this making any sense,”

Joe tilted his head, taking a crime scene photo and studying it.

“The patterns just aren't adding up, but I know it's him Joe. I know it.”

He sighed, placing the photo back down where he got it from.

An officer knocked on the door, “Sorry to interrupt Mr. and Mrs. Merriweather, but we have someone here that wants to speak with one of you.”

“I'll be there in a minute, Officer Banks.”

Joe turned back to me, “Listen, we'll catch him, Sweetheart. We always do,”

He leaned over, taking my chin in his soft hand. Slowly, he kissed me, his tongue gently dipping into my mouth.

Grunting slightly, he pulled back, grinning, “I knew I married you for a reason,”

I laughed, swatting at him, “Ass,”

Joe chuckled, kissing my head right before he left.

I rubbed my temples, my vision blurry from staring at the photos and paperwork for so long.

Making a final decision, I decided to just go back to the crime scene to scan it over once again.
°°°°°°
John Clancy ran into the station, demanding the front desk that he speak with his long time friend, Joe.

“He's busy at the moment Sir. Have a-”

“I don't give a damn if he's busy or not!” he snapped, slamming his hand on counter.

“John, what's going on?” Joe's brows were furrowed as he approached him.

“Where's Y/N?”

“She went back to a crime scene, why?”

“I saw her,” John's accent became thicker the more he remembered his vision, “She's in an abandoned apartment. Old blood splattered on the nicotine stained wall.”

Joe's eyes widened, fear making them glossy. He turned, telling others to get to 4861 Stemming Road.

“Keep talking!” Joe said, as John kept up with him.