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The first time was a coincidence. An afterthought. An unfamiliar exchange of ‘hello’s between her partner and the generally gruff-seeming detective. Brett didn’t realise that they knew each other. That was as far as she pondered it.
The second time incited slight intrigue, Brett admitted, when the bar stool next to her became suddenly empty as her partner strode away, toward the table of cops, to greet Upton with a comfortable smile and casual touch to her shoulder.
The third time was the charm, and the last straw to break the back of the curiosity that Brett had tried to quell.
“You’re still paint-balling tomorrow, right?” Brett asked as she packed up her duffel bag at the end of shift. “With me and Kidd?” she elaborated upon seeing the complete lack of reaction from her partner.
“Oh, uh…” Foster trailed off, already seeming guilty and keeping her gaze from her friend. “I kind of said I’d go to a hockey game,” she shrugged, her attempt at nonchalance coming off as awkward as she felt.
“Ha! A hockey game?!” Brett laughed, knowing her partner all too well. “It must be a really hot date.”
“Why would you say that?!” Foster feigned insult, pressing a hand to her heart.
“Do you even like hockey?” Brett asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’ve been getting into it,” Foster defended, shutting her locker and finally making eye contact with Brett.
“Oh yeah?” Brett challenged. “Who’s playing?”
“I…” Foster looked around the room as though hoping the answer would come to her in a vision.
“Ha!” Brett laughed, poking Foster in the chest as though she had won. She had. “So, who is hot enough to get you to go to a hockey game that you don’t care about?” she asked seriously, done giving her friend a hard time- for now.
“No one!” Foster waved her hands in surrender. “I’m just going with Hailey,” she added quietly.
“Hailey?” Brett inquired, knowing the person in question but hoping to get Foster to elaborate anyway.
“Yeah, um… Upton? From PD,” she said as casually as she could muster.
“She is pretty hot…” Brett mumbled, knowing it would get a rise from the woman.
“Shut up,” Foster rolled her eyes and pushed Brett’s shoulder as the laugh the blonde was holding in surfaced.
“I didn’t realise you two knew each other so well,” Brett admitted, slinging her bag over her shoulder as Foster followed suit. “So is it like a date?”
“No!” Foster argued too quickly as a blush covered her cheeks. “It’s not like that…”
“Are you sure?” Brett asked, eyebrow quirked.
“Yes, Brett. I’m sure,” Foster said seriously.
“How long have you two been hanging out?”
“Um, we haven’t. Not really,” Foster played off, hoping that the conversation would end once they made their way into the truck bay where their friends were in earshot.
“That sounded like a ‘but’,” Brett smirked.
“We just talk sometimes. She’s cool,” Foster said flippantly, averting her eyes from the intense gaze of her friend.
“She must be,” Brett said, grin audible. “Cool enough to make you go to a hockey game…”
“Who’s goin’ to a hockey game?” Kidd asked, suddenly at their side.
“Foster’s ditching us for sports,” Brett threw out, catching the glare from Foster from her periphery.
“Ew,” Kidd said instantly. “Must be a really hot date.”