Work Text:
“Come over.”
Lindsey breaks the silence that had fallen over the two desks. The tension was palpable, and the irritation radiating off of Strahm was almost visible. The badly concealed rage, the barely subdued frustration - all in all, Peter Strahm was a 6 foot ball of negativity.
It’d gotten late, and the sun had long since gone down, but the two remained in the office alone. Their only witness - the smoking gun to their arson case - had ditched town, and Strahm had insisted that they go through all of the files again, solely to find something to replace the man with. Something to charge these people, something to keep this case from slipping between the cracks.
After hours of picking apart details, searching for names, and examining files upon files, they both knew the truth of the situation. The lost witness was the only way they would be closing this case, and they were never getting a hold of him. Perez, while upset, was nowhere near as tense as Strahm.
That was entirely because she could admit defeat a lot better than he could. Peter Strahm was the definition of a sore loser. She remembers clearly the time she’d asked about his wife - a wedding ring still sat on his finger, and it was only fair to assume he’d had someone waiting at home for him - but he broke the news that he’d been divorced for a couple months. Still, he wore the ring.
She didn’t question it. Obviously, a sore subject. Even now, the ring sat on his finger. He was an interesting man.
“
What?”
Strahm returned, glaring up at her through his eyebrows. He hadn’t even bothered to properly look up from the page he’d re-read seven times, at this point.
“Come over. Let’s have dinner. Watch a movie, or something. Have you ever seen
Kill Bill
?” She put the pen down, letting out a soft sigh.”It’s late.”
Strahm doesn’t reply for a long moment. He clicks the pen in his hand like it owes him something, looking back down to the page. Lindsey would bet money that he could recite the paragraphs by heart at this point.
“Watch a movie,” Strahm repeats, finally speaking up. His tone is laced with something similar to humor - like something about that is funny in a way Perez doesn’t understand. “Five people are about to get away with arson homicide, and you want to watch a movie.”
Perez presses her lips into a fine line, leaning back in her chair. She should’ve expected this. He’s not going to give up that easily, and honestly - He’s lucky that she’s determined. If she were a harsher person, she would’ve left him here. But, after everything they’ve been through, she still cares about him - and if he loses his mind from overworking himself, finding a new partner sounds like an awful chore. .
“
Peter
,” She insists, her tone firm in a way she only uses when they’re debating. Never fighting - learning from each other. She doesn’t argue back unnecessarily. “The dealer’s gone. We’re not getting anything from any of this. The best we can do is try to find where he went, and you know that we need
help
for that. Traffic cameras, witnesses, neighbor’s reports - We can’t do that tonight.”
The turning of the gears in his mind are almost audible. He clicks the pen more when he’s fighting with himself in his head, and his eyes aren’t skimming over the page anymore. She’s learned that a lot of his deliberation happens in silence, and it’s all very intensive. He’s a conflicting man, she guesses.
He hates when he’s wrong. He hates it even more when he’s not even wrong , he just has to admit that it didn’t go the way he wanted it to - He was right, and he still couldn’t do anything. She knows he hates that the most.
Almost a minute passes without any response from him, and she opens her mouth to press again - but she’s stopped by his pen being slammed down onto the desk in front of him. The noise is sharp, piercing the peace of the empty office around them, and she almost jumps.
“We’re going to interrogate the neighbors,” He tells, pushing himself up from his seated position. “First thing tomorrow. If
anyone
knows where he went, we'll find it.”
His determination makes her smile. It’s worrying, in a way, but it’s also respectable. It’s a reason she didn’t ditch him immediately, despite his prickly personality, and his unpleasant bluntness. He’s grown on her.
“Dinner?” She asks, raising an eyebrow - her gaze follows him as he stands, and she has a hopeful look on her face. He doesn’t see it, gathering the files and folders splayed out on the counter.
“I’m taking these home,” Strahm answers instead. “See what was missed.”
She stands up quickly, putting her hands on her own desk - leaning over towards him.
“Strahm,” She tells. “There’s nothing we missed here. You need to relax. Come over.”
He doesn’t say anything, loading the files into his shoulder bag. It’s a tight fit - a lot of papers, all with thick, plastic folders. He shoots a glance back to the desk. His bag isn’t big enough, it’s clear. He’s thinking, she notes.
“I’ll cook,” Lindsey tries, one more time. Strahm lets out a sharp, displeased sigh, and she takes it as a good sign.
“I’m not staying longer than two hours,” He returns, his tone a harsh kind of defeat - still aggressive, despite his relenting. He doesn’t even bother looking over at her. The pen clicks.
“You’ll have a great time,” She tells him, a more proper smile on her face. She gathers her own things, organizing the files on her desk, and hopping up to meet him at the door. She’s more playful, her arms crossed. “Do you even watch movies?”
Strahm meets her there, unamused. He glances down at her - but it isn’t an angry type of glare. It’s just enough to shut her up.
“I do my
work
,” He answers, fixing the sleeves of his shirt. Perez shoves his shoulder as he approaches, and he doesn’t seem to be disturbed - she remembers a time when he would’ve given her an hour long lecture on it, or completely cold shoulder her for a week if she’d even
tried
something like this. It’s nice to see how much he’s grown.
She turns out the lights to the office, concealing the rest of the room in darkness, and the two leave together.