Work Text:
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beaches of Oahu. Kate stood on the balcony of their shared apartment, her arms crossed tightly against the early morning chill. The sound of waves crashing in the distance was a familiar comfort, but today it felt like a countdown—a reminder that time was slipping away. Inside, Lucy was packing her duffel bag, her movements quick and purposeful, though Kate could tell she was trying to mask the heaviness in her heart.
"You sure you’ve got everything?" Kate called out, stepping back into the living room. Her voice was steady, but there was a slight waver she couldn’t quite hide.
Lucy looked up from where she was shoving a pair of sneakers into the already overstuffed bag. She flashed a grin, the kind that always made Kate’s chest ache just a little. "Yeah, I think so. Toothbrush, socks, that hideous Navy-issued raincoat—check, check, and check. Oh, and I’m stealing your hoodie. You’re not getting it back."
Kate rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. "You’re lucky I love you, thief." She walked over to the couch and perched on the armrest, watching Lucy wrestle with the zipper. "I can’t believe my little nomad has an overstuffed bag.“ Kate chuckled.
"Well you spoil me.“
Kate nodded grinning, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She’d known this was coming—Lucy’s assignment to the USS had been looming for a while—but knowing didn’t make it easier. Lucy was a force of nature, a whirlwind of energy and determination, and the thought of her being gone left a quiet void Kate wasn’t ready to face.
"You’re gonna be fine, you know," Lucy said suddenly, standing up and crossing the room to stand in front of Kate. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. "You’ve got your fancy FBI office, your endless paperwork, and terrible excel sheets to keep you company."
Kate caught Lucy’s hand and held it, her thumb tracing circles over Lucy’s knuckles. "It’s not the same, and you know it. Who’s going to drag me out for late-night snacks or fall asleep on my shoulder while watching reality tv?"
Lucy laughed, the sound bright and fleeting. "Okay, fair. But I’ll be back before you know it, bossing you around and making you try pineapple on pizza again."
Kate groaned, but her expression softened. "I’m holding you to that." She stood, pulling Lucy into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around her as if she could anchor her there just a little longer. Lucy melted into the embrace, her cheek pressed against Kate’s shoulder.
For a moment, they just stood there, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound breaking the silence. Then Lucy pulled back, her eyes glistening but her jaw set. "The big boat is waiting."
Kate nodded, forcing herself to let go. She followed Lucy to the door, where the duffel bag sat like an unwelcome guest. Lucy slung it over her shoulder and turned back, her hand resting on the doorknob. She spread her hand out to take her girlfriend‘s and they went down to the car.
They arrived at the pier together, the early morning air thick with salt and the smell of the concrete under their feet. They walked closer to the USS—a towering, cold steel beast poised to rip Lucy from Kate’s world. The golden light of dawn shimmered across the restless water, casting fleeting glints of beauty that felt like a cruel mockery of the hollow ache sinking deep into Kate’s bones, a chill no sunrise could touch.
They paused at the pier’s edge, where the gangway stretched out like a fragile thread tethering their fragile, shared universe. A handful of sailors moved nearby, their voices a distant murmur, but for Kate and Lucy, the world had shrunk to just the two of them—two hearts teetering on the brink of fracture. Lucy let her duffel slip from her shoulder to the ground with a soft thud, turning to face Kate. The brave mask she’d worn all morning cracked as their gazes locked, and in her eyes, Kate saw the storm of fear and love she was trying so hard to hide.
Kate’s throat constricted, a lump of grief she couldn’t swallow. “You’re really doing this, huh?” Her voice trembled, barely holding steady, as if saying it aloud made it too real.
Lucy nodded, her lips pressing tight before parting with a shaky breath. “Yeah. But I’m coming back to you. I swear it, Kate.” Her voice splintered on the promise, raw and fragile, and she blinked hard, tears glistening like shards of glass she refused to let fall.
Kate’s hands trembled as she reached out, cradling Lucy’s face in her palms, her thumbs tracing the familiar curve of her cheeks as if memorizing every inch she was about to lose. “You better,” she choked out, her voice breaking under the weight of her longing. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to breathe without you crashing into my days, turning everything upside down.” A sob masqueraded as a laugh escaped her, brittle and desperate, as she fought to keep from unraveling. “God, I hate this part so much.”
“Me too,” Lucy whispered, her voice a fragile thread as she leaned into Kate’s touch, her own hands flying to Kate’s wrists, gripping them like they were the only thing keeping her from drowning. “I’m gonna miss you so damn much, Kate. It’s tearing me apart already, and I haven’t even left yet.”
The words sliced through Kate, and her chest seized with a pain so sharp it stole her breath. She pulled Lucy into her arms with a fierceness she couldn’t contain, a tidal wave of need and despair crashing over her. She buried her face in Lucy’s hair, inhaling the faint coconut scent of her shampoo, the warmth that was Lucy’s alone—her anchor, her home. “I’m gonna miss you more,” she murmured, her voice muffled against Lucy’s shoulder, thick with tears she could no longer hold back. “You’re my chaos, my heart… my whole damn world.”
Lucy’s arms tightened around her, fingers digging into Kate’s back as if she could fuse them together, keep this moment from slipping away. A sob broke free from her chest, raw and unrestrained. “Don’t make me cry, Whistler,” she pleaded, though her voice was already soaked with emotion. “I’ve got to look tough for the Navy, damn it.” But she didn’t let go, her body trembling as she pressed herself closer, clinging to Kate like a lifeline.
The ship’s horn tore through the air—a brutal, merciless roar that shattered their fragile cocoon. Kate felt Lucy stiffen, and they unraveled slowly, reluctantly, their hands lingering, fingers laced together until the last possible heartbeat. Lucy swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of Kate’s stolen hoodie, the one she’d claimed months ago, then bent to hoist her duffel. The sight of her in that worn fabric, carrying a piece of Kate with her, twisted the knife deeper.
“Stay safe out there,” Kate whispered, her voice so soft it nearly drowned in the wind. “And call me whenever you can, okay? Even if it’s just to rant about the shitty food or the waves. I need to hear you.”
Lucy nodded, her lips curving into a watery, trembling smile. “Only if you promise not to touch my stuff while I’m gone. I need my chaos waiting for me, just the way I left it.”
“Deal,” Kate managed, her own smile wobbling as tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Lucy wrapped her arms around Kate‘s neck, pressing her lips softly against hers. Without a word they watched the tears fall. "Goodbye, my sweet."
Lucy took a step back, then another, her gaze never leaving Kate’s, as if she could carry her with her through sheer will. At the gangway, she faltered, her hand white-knuckling the railing. For one fleeting, agonizing second, Kate’s heart leapt—maybe she’d turn back, run into her arms, refuse to go. But then Lucy straightened, her shoulders squaring with a resolve that broke Kate’s heart all over again. She gave a small, aching wave, and stepped aboard.
Kate stood frozen on the pier, a statue of grief, watching as Lucy vanished into the sea of uniforms. The ship’s engines growled to life, a low, mournful rumble that vibrated through her chest, and the vessel began to pull away, carving a widening chasm between them. It carried Lucy—her laughter, her fire, her everything—out into the endless blue, tearing a jagged hole in Kate’s soul. She stayed there, rooted to the spot, long after the ship melted into the horizon, the waves whispering against the pier as silent tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless. The goodbye hung in the air, a heavy, unfinished wound, but she clung to Lucy’s vow like a lifeline in the dark: I’m coming back to you.
***
A few days later, the late afternoon sun slanted through the blinds of Kate’s apartment, painting stripes of light across the hardwood floor. The space felt too quiet, too still, without Lucy’s chaotic energy filling it—her boots usually kicked off haphazardly by the door, her laughter bouncing off the walls. Kate sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of coffee cooling in her hands, staring at her laptop screen. The clock in the corner ticked closer to 4:00 p.m., the agreed-upon time for their first video call since Lucy had shipped out.
She’d spent the morning at the FBI field office, drowning herself in paperwork to keep her mind from wandering to the emptiness waiting at home. It hadn’t worked. Every quiet moment brought flashes of Lucy—her grin as she stole a fry from Kate’s plate, the way she’d hum off-key while cooking breakfast. Now, with the call looming, Kate’s stomach twisted with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She needed to see Lucy’s face, hear her voice, even if it was through a screen.
The laptop chimed, and Kate nearly spilled her coffee in her haste to answer. She clicked the link, and after a moment of buffering—damn Navy internet—Lucy’s face flickered into view. She was in what looked like a cramped cabin, the walls a dull gray, a single porthole letting in a sliver of ocean light behind her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, strands escaping like always, and she wore a faded Navy T-shirt. But her eyes—those bright, mischievous eyes—lit up the screen, and Kate’s chest loosened just a fraction.
“There’s my favorite fed,” Lucy said, her voice crackling slightly through the speakers, but still warm, still her. She leaned closer to the camera, squinting playfully. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, Whistler. What’s the excuse?”
Kate let out a shaky laugh, brushing a hand through her hair. “Oh, you know, just missing my personal tornado. Work’s boring without you barging in to distract me.” She paused, swallowing hard. “How’s it going out there?”
Lucy leaned back, propping her chin in her hand. “It’s… loud. And wet. And the food’s as bad as I expected—think cardboard with a side of regret. But the ship’s cool, I guess.” She grinned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Kate caught the faint strain tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“You’re holding up okay, though?” Kate asked, her voice softening. She hated how far away Lucy felt, how she couldn’t reach out and pull her close.
Lucy nodded, but her gaze flickered down for a second before meeting Kate’s again. “Yeah. It’s just… weird, you know? Being out here, all this water and steel, and no you. I keep turning to say something snarky, and then I remember you’re not there to roll your eyes at me.” She laughed, but it was thin, tinged with something raw. “God, I miss you already, Kate. It’s only been three days, and I’m losing it.”
Kate’s throat tightened, and she pressed her lips together to keep her composure. “I miss you too. It’s too quiet here. I even left your mess in the kitchen—those coffee grounds you spilled? Still there. Figured it’d feel more like you’re coming back soon.”
Lucy’s smile softened, genuine this time. “You’re such a sap. Don’t you dare clean it up—I’m gonna need proof you didn’t turn into a total neat freak without me.” She shifted, resting her elbow on the small desk in front of her. “How’s the office? Any exciting cases, or are you still drowning in spreadsheets?”
“Spreadsheets,” Kate said with a groan, leaning back against the couch. “Though I did get stuck in a meeting with Tennant yesterday that lasted three hours. I kept thinking about how you’d have snuck me a text to make me laugh and get me through it.”
“Should’ve sent me a distress signal—I’d have called in a fake emergency,” Lucy teased, then paused, her expression turning serious. “Hey, you’re keeping busy, right? Not just moping around waiting for me?”
Kate smirked, though her eyes betrayed the ache she couldn’t shake. “I’m fine, Luce. Just… counting the days. Tell me something good—something to keep me going.”
Lucy’s face brightened, and she leaned in conspiratorially. “Okay, so yesterday I got to climb up to the radar tower—wind whipping like crazy, the whole ocean stretching out forever. It was wild, Kate. Made me think of that time we hiked Diamond Head, except no pineapple shaved ice at the top this time.” She chuckled, then added, “Oh, and I stole a pudding cup from the galley. Felt like a real rebel.”
Kate laughed, the sound easing some of the tension coiled in her chest. “My little criminal. I’m proud of you.” She hesitated, then said quieter, “It’s good to see you, even like this. Makes it a little less hard.”
“Yeah,” Lucy murmured, her voice dropping too. “Seeing you’s the best part of my day. Keeps me grounded out here.” She glanced off-screen, then back at Kate, her lips twitching. “Hey, I’ve got about ten more minutes before they drag me off for some drill. Tell me something ridiculous—give me a story to laugh about later.”
Kate thought for a second, then grinned. “Okay, so yesterday I tried making that stir-fry you love, right? Except I got distracted and set off the smoke alarm. Had to explain to the neighbor why I was fanning the hallway with a towel in my pajamas. She thinks I’m a disaster now.”
Lucy burst out laughing, the sound crackling through the speakers like a lifeline. “Oh my God, Kate, you’re hopeless without me. Promise me you’ll stick to takeout ‘til I’m back to supervise.”
“Deal,” Kate said, her own laughter fading into a soft smile. “Just hurry back, okay? I need my chef—and my chaos.”
Lucy’s eyes softened, glistening faintly in the dim light of her cabin. “I will. Promise.” The ship’s intercom crackled in the background, a muffled voice calling out orders, and Lucy sighed. “That’s my cue. I’ll call again soon, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kate said, her voice catching. “Stay safe my sweet. I love you.”
“I love you too baby.” Lucy blew a kiss at the screen, then reached forward, and the call cut out, leaving Kate staring at a blank window.
She closed the laptop slowly, the silence rushing back in like a tide. But this time, it didn’t feel quite as heavy—Lucy’s voice lingered in her mind, a tether across the miles, promising they’d find their way back to each other. Kate leaned back, clutching her coffee mug, and let a small, hopeful smile tug at her lips. They’d make it through this. They always did.
***
After a week, Lucy and Kate settled in for a proper video call. They’d been calling from time to time , but both craved the real-time connection of seeing each other’s voices. Lucy switched on her desktop computer on the small table in her room, adjusting the webcam so Kate could see her lounging on a chair, wrapped in a hoodie. Kate, meanwhile, appeared on the screen from her own setup, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Lucy said with a grin as Kate’s face popped into focus.
“Hello most beautiful woman on earth,” Kate shot back, smirking. “Finally, a video call. I was starting to forget what your face looks like.”
They talked for a while, the conversation weaving through lighthearted banter and the kind of quiet confessions that only come out late at night. The glow of Lucy’s monitor was the only light left in her room as the minutes ticked by, and her yawns grew more frequent. Kate’s voice, warm and steady, was lulling her toward sleep, but Lucy didn’t want to let go just yet.
“I wish you were here,” Lucy murmured, her head resting on her hand. “Like, actually here.”
Kate’s expression softened. “Me too. I’d crash on your floor if I could.”
“I don’t wanna end the call,” Lucy said, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I wanna fall asleep with you.”
Kate tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Then don’t hang up. I’ll stay on.”
That sparked an idea in Lucy’s sleepy mind. “Wait, wait—gimme a sec.” She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes. Her desktop wasn’t as portable as a laptop, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her. “I’m bringing you to bed with me.”
Kate raised an eyebrow, amused. “Uh, how? That’s a whole computer, Luce.”
“Shush, I’ve got this,” Lucy replied, already problem-solving. She ended the call for a second to focus, unplugging the monitor’s power cable and HDMI from the tower. The screen went dark, but she wasn’t deterred. She hefted the monitor into her arms—careful not to yank the webcam still clipped to the top—and shuffled over to her bed, setting it down on a creation of chairs and random objects she found. Next came the tower itself, a bulky thing she slid across the floor with a grunt, positioning it beside her nightstand. She grabbed the keyboard and mouse, their cords trailing like a messy tail, and fished around for the power strip under her bed.
Lucy plugged everything back in. She reconnected the HDMI, hit the power button, and waited as the system hummed back to life. The monitor flickered on and she clicked on the call button again.
“There,” Lucy said triumphantly, flopping onto the mattress beside the setup. She adjusted the monitor so Kate’s face was in view, the glow casting soft shadows across her pillow. “Now you’re in bed with me.”
Kate burst out laughing, shaking her head. “You’re insane. I can’t believe you just moved your entire computer for this.”
“Worth it,” Lucy mumbled, pulling the blanket over herself. Her eyes fluttered shut, the hum of the tower’s fan blending with Kate’s quiet breathing through the speakers. “Night, Kate.”
“Night, you absolute lunatic,” Kate replied, her voice fond. She didn’t hang up, letting the call run as Lucy’s breathing evened out, the faint whir of the machine keeping her company through the night. It wasn’t the most practical setup, but for Lucy, it felt like having Kate right there—and that was all that mattered.
Although they both knew that this wasn’t a permanent thing or solution they knew that it would get easier and the four months would pass.