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Concrete Walls and Cookies

Summary:

No sooner is she off the phone than she hears a knock at the door. Oops. They’ll just have to go grab burgers or something. Not exactly a normal anniversary dinner, but honestly, they don’t sound bad right now. She’s starting to feel a little hungry.

“You could’ve just called,” she teases, opening the door. Then, she stops short.

The man standing at the door-dark skin, kind smile, and a gray jacket-is definitely not Nick. “Excuse me,” He begins, “but are you Juliette Silverton?”

Notes:

I spent... Way too much time trying to figure out what to call this fic. Anyway, this is some nice, fluffy, pre-canon friendship/light whump, with just a touch of Tired Renard because I Love Him. I hope you enjoy! Also, I've started going out of order a little bit on Comfortember, so this is technically for prompt 13: Baking.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Juliette sighs, forcing herself not to glance at the clock again. It probably won’t be much later than the last time she checked, even if it feels like a lifetime has gone by. Besides, she should probably get used to this. Dating a cop was hard enough, and now that he’s been promoted to detective, she feels like she hardly ever sees him. 

And it’s not like she minds, exactly. She knew what she was getting into when she asked him out. It’s his job to protect people and save the world, and sometimes, that means missing a date or two. It’s just… She worries about him. Every time he’s late, or doesn’t show, she worries that she’ll never see him again. 

He’s supposed to come by and pick her up, then take her to dinner at a fancy restaurant tonight, to celebrate three months of being together. Dork, she told him when he suggested it, but secretly, she loves it. (Loves him, but she’s not altogether ready to admit that out loud.) She even baked cookies as a surprise for the car ride to dinner. 

Finally allowing herself to look back at the clock, she winces. He’s a full half-hour late at this point. Definitely time to cancel the reservation. 

“Hello? My boyfriend and I have a reservation for 7 tonight, but something’s come up, and we’re not going to be able to make it. Yes, the name is Burkhardt. Thank you.” 

No sooner is she off the phone than she hears a knock at the door. Oops. They’ll just have to go grab burgers or something. Not exactly a normal anniversary dinner, but honestly, they don’t sound bad right now. She’s starting to feel a little hungry. 

“You could’ve just called,” she teases, opening the door. Then, she stops short. 

The man standing at the door-dark skin, kind smile, and a gray jacket-is definitely not Nick. “Excuse me,” He begins, “but are you Juliette Silverton?”

A few of Nick’s warnings flicker in the back of her mind, about answering the door for strangers and taking care with personal information. Nothing she didn’t already know, but he really drove it home; she didn’t want to think about what horrors he’d witnessed to make him so urgent about that. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

An approving grin. “You’re careful. That’s good. Detective Hank Griffin,” he adds, tugging a chain from his shirt to reveal a badge on the end. “Portland PD.” 

The tension drains from Juliette in an instant; she’s heard that name before. “You’re Nick’s new partner. He’s talked about you.” Then, a horrifying thought occurs to her: why would he be here, unless- “Wait, is Nick okay?” 

If he isn’t-if he’s gone, before they barely even had a chance to start anything-she’s not sure she’ll be able to handle it. Her chest is impossibly tight, and she can hardly breathe until Hank waves a hand reassuringly. 

“He’s fine, ” he says firmly. “Scuffle with a suspect got a little out of hand, so he’s in the hospital, but-”

The hospital? “I thought you said he was fine!”

“He is.” Hank’s ridiculously patient, his even tone steadying her in spite of herself. “Suspect shoved him, so he hit his head pretty good, but he’s fine. A little scraped up, but he didn’t even think he needed to go to the hospital; Captain insisted, just to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.” 

Well, that’s… Better than him being dead, or gravely injured, but head injuries are nothing to play with; she’s glad his captain put his foot down. 

“If you want to know how fine he is,” Hank adds, amused, “He kept telling anyone who would listen that he had to go, because he had to take his beautiful girlfriend to their anniversary dinner. Congratulations, by the way; how long?”

Her lips twitch at the image of Nick telling everyone about her like that; she really did pick a good one. “Three months.” His brows shoot up, and she can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Sorry, I just… Three months. Haven’t celebrated that in a long time.”

Nick hasn’t mentioned much about Hank’s personal life, and she has to ask, “How long have you been with someone?”

“Which time?” He gives her a dry grin. “Three times divorced, currently single and looking. Speaking of, you know anyone who doesn’t mind a guy who’s married to his work?”

She giggles, shaking her head apologetically. “Just me, and I’m already taken.” 

“Too bad. You and Nick ever break up, give me a call.” He says it so playfully that she absolutely cannot take him seriously, and a bit more tension drains from her as they laugh. He adds, more seriously, “Anyway, finally, I told Nick I’d come let you know if he’d just go to the hospital. He wasn’t happy about it, but he went.”

“Good.” She steps inside, looking for her purse, and after a second, Hank follows. “I should go see him.”

“Want me to give you a ride?”

She’s about to decline when a horrifying image flickers through her mind, of Nick’s head injury being more serious than they realize, of him dropping dead on the ground without warning, and-

Yeah, she probably shouldn’t be driving until she sees him. “That would be great, thank you.” She makes her way to check the kitchen, and Hank lights up at the spread on the table. 

“Mmm, cookies! Gonna bring some to Nick?”

That is… A really good idea, actually. “I think I will. Mind giving me a hand? The Ziplock bags are in the drawer under the microwave. I have to track down my purse.” 

“No problem. But wasn’t your purse in the living room?” 

… Surely not. 

(It is, of course. He didn’t make detective for nothing.)

Purse and cookies acquired, they head to the hospital. 

By the time they arrive, Juliette has decided that Hank is exactly what Nick needs in a partner. His practical, down to earth nature seems like a good balance to Nick’s high-energy, optimistic dreamer. For his part, he definitely seems to approve of her, which Juliette chooses to take great pride in. 

As they walk into the emergency room, they see an incredibly tall man in a suit who takes one look at them and strides over to them, taking the room in just a couple of steps. “Are you Juliette Silverton?” He asks, voice polite but eyes strained. 

She glances at Hank to make sure he knows this man before nodding. “That’s me. How is he?” 

He presses his lips together for a moment. “He’ll be fine,” he says finally. “Doctors say there’s no concussion. He’ll have a pretty bad headache for a few days, but there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage. Captain Renard,” he adds after a moment, as an afterthought. 

Juliette thinks she might cry with relief, but she clears her throat, focusing on his last words. “You’re Nick’s boss? Please tell me you yelled at him for trying to get out of coming here.”

Hank chuckles. “Not what you’d recommend, Doc?”

Captain Renard’s eyes flicker in interest, and she gets the vaguest sense he’s cataloguing every bit of information around him. “You’re a doctor?” 

“Vet,” she clarifies, and he nods.

“Well, Doctor, your patient-” Something dry in his tone tells her that patient might not be the best word to describe Nick at the moment- “Is down the hall. Room 112.” 

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave the yelling to you,” he adds, and it’s so matter-of-fact that she's not sure if he's joking or not. 

He leaves, and she and Hank make their way to Nick’s room, pausing outside to knock. 

“Come in?” Nick, sounding adorably baffled. Smiling to herself, she steps inside. 

Just seeing him goes a long way toward curbing the concern in her chest; he seems none the worse for wear, if a little tired and extremely put out. His bed is propped up in a sitting position, as he looks around the room. He lights up when he sees her, and she makes her way to his side, sitting at the edge of the bed and pulling him close. His lips meet hers, and for a long moment, there is only this moment here, and the two of them in it.

Then, Hank clears his throat, reminding them that other people do, in fact, exist. “Hey, don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and eat all the cookies.”

Nick breaks the kiss with a dorky grin. “Cookies?”

“Juliette baked.” Hank holds out the bag, and Nick takes it eagerly, fishing out a treat. “They’re really good,” Hank adds, and Juliette stops short. 

“Wait, you tried them?”

“Fee for the taxi, you two. Fee for the taxi.” 

Fair, actually. She turns her attention back to Nick, who’s halfway through a particularly large cookie. She waits until he’s mid-bite to say, “So, I hear that you tried to not go to the hospital. After you hit your head on-what was it again?”

Hank chimes in, sounding ridiculously smug, decidedly enjoying this whole thing. “A concrete wall.”

“A concrete wall?”

Poor Nick looks a bit like a guilty puppy, ducking his head. “I wanted to come see you. Besides, I’m fine. It barely even hurts.” 

Dork. “Well, now you’ve seen me, so behave and do what the doctors say, okay?” She strokes his hair gently, and his eyes flutter shut as he leans into the contact. “And no sleeping.” 

He pouts, but nods. “Will you stay here with me?”

Why is he still giving her that look? It’s not like she’s actually going to say no. “Of course I will.” She gestures for him to scoot over, then settles in beside him, snuggling into his side. He wraps an arm around her, and it doesn’t escape her notice that he’s resting his weight against her. Not quite as okay as he’s letting on, then, but she doesn’t call him on it; she can hold him up. 

Hank hesitates, taking them in. “Maybe I should…?” 

Go. He doesn’t say it, but it’s clear that he feels like he’s overstepping, as much as it’s clear that he wants to stay; she’s not the only one worried about Nick. 

“Grab a chair.” She leaves no room for argument. “There’s plenty of room.”

He does just that, offering her a grateful smile. Then, eyes sparkling, he adds, “So, can I have another one of those cookies? Because seriously, they’re the best things I’ve tasted in years.”

She’s about to say yes, of course, when Nick tucks the bag under the covers. “Nope, sorry, these are medical cookies,” Nick announces, faux-serious as could be. “I hurt my head, to know.” 

“Now, hold on a second.” Hank raises a brow, as Juliette tries to stifle her giggles. “You said you were fine.” 

“I am fine.” Nick shrugs. “Because of the cookies.” 

Juliette clears her throat, barely managing a reply. “But you said that before you had the cookies.”

“... They’re just that good.” 

She swats his shoulder, and he makes a ridiculous show of it, drawing back dramatically and grabbing as if she’s pummeled him, before wrapping his arms around her once more, pulling her into his chest. She snuggles in immediately, his warmth curling around her, and Hank chuckles. 

“Hey, uh…” Nick glances between them. “Seriously, thanks for coming. Both of you.”

“Of course.” She presses a quick kiss to his cheek, and Hank nods in silent agreement. 

“... So, seriously, can I have another cookie?”

“No.”

(Ridiculously, it takes another three hours for him to be released. Juliette stays the whole time, and Hank only leaves long enough to grab them all burgers when the cookies run out. She’s definitely going to have to bake another batch, just for him, to thank him for everything that he’s done. 

But for the moment, they’re just going to stay here and keep watch over Nick.)  

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

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