Believing In You (Blue Bloods Fanfiction)

↞ Chapter Twenty ↠

Season Three, Episode Seventeen

"Love," I pressed a kiss to Jameson's forehead as I finished pulling on my leather jacket. He rolled over a bit, smiling up at me in a drowsy way. "I got to go."

He started to sit up, "Go, go where?" I stood to my full height, motioning that he didn't have to get up.

"I've got to go by the precinct Jameson but I'll see you in a little bit for dinner." I glanced at my watch before speaking again. "You should probably get up in an hour or so for dinner, it's late and there's a game on today. Take a taxi, we can drive home together after."

Jameson hummed, before rolling over and tucking his face back into the pillow. I smiled, shaking my head as I turned to leave.

I was glad that Jameson felt comfortable enough to just go back to bed, but I knew I'd need to call him in an hour or two to make sure he actually got up. He always seemed to be more tired after a night of drinking, not that I could blame him. I was only getting up because I had to run by the precinct to pick up a few cold case files because I'd get the chance to look at them on Monday and Tuesday while I was off.

It was barely a drive to the precinct and I was glad for the little traffic.

I parked in the back as usual, waltzing in with a smile and nod of my head as I passed the officers that were in there.

"Howards! What are you doing in today?" Gormley shouted, not like he had any other way of talking to people. "Your off until Wednesday."

"I know Sarge, came to pick up my cases for the next few days." I paused, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets as I waited for the Sargent to respond.

"Can't believe you do that." He said it with a laugh. "You know normal people on their day off actually take the day off, not look at cold cases."

I shook my head, "Gives me a different point of view boss."

Gormley turned away, calling over his shoulder as he went back in his office. "Get out of here kid."

I just nodded, starting towards the back records room.

There was a strange feeling in the air as I passed by the officers in the room. Like everyone was watching me as I went, but I just chalked it up to the fact that I was wearing jeans rather than my usual suit.

The officer who organizes the records room is one of the good cops, the genuinely good cops that everyone likes to be around, and because she's so nice she knows my order of things. So if I give her a heads up she'll pull the files for me and leave them in a box in the corner of the room for me to grab.

Which saves me time, and I was especially glad for today. Erin asked Linda to ask me to pick up some grocery's on the way to the house for dinner, which meant that I'd probably be roped into helping to make dinner, not that I necessarily mind. It's actually okay making dinner with them. Well, with Linda at least. Erin has a tendency to be to much on the book, while Linda gives some room to run.

I was a baker by trade, if you could call it by trade. I preferred it, did it to get through college, and stuck with it because who doesn't love a good batch of brownies or cookies when they're not doing so great.

So as I started towards the back door of the precinct I made a mental list of everything that Linda had asked me to get, and was glad for the fact that I had left the flat so early this morning. I glanced down at the files I was holding, making sure that I had all the files I wanted to look at before stepping out the back door towards my car.

"Hey Howards!" I turned, "Tell the boss I said hey."

It was a simple comment, and I said I would without really thinking about it. The officer who had shouted it was a Sargent, and as I sat in the front seat of my car I suddenly wondered how he had known I was headed that way.

I started the car, immediately getting distracted by my phone ringing.

"Howards." I answered without looking at it.

"J it's Linda, can you get some Brussels sprouts too? Erin entirely forgot about vegetables, and the boys need something." She sounded distant from the phone, and I realized that she must have put the phone on speaker.

"No problem, I'm stopping at a bodega now. Be there in twenty." She thanked me a half a dozen times before hanging up and I pulled to a stop on the side of the street.

I've been by this bodega at least once a week since I moved here. It's right down the road from work and has fresh fruits and veggies pretty much year round. The owners nice too, which is a plus side for a new yorker.

"Usnavi." I greeted with a smile, "You've got Brussels Sprouts?"