Chapter Text
The bullpen was unusually chill for once—no looming case files, no bodies, no plane on standby. Just the team scattered around the conference table with coffee and the rarest thing of all: time.
Emily, perched on the edge of the table with her latte, grinned mischievously. “Okay—real talk. Who here is actually dating someone right now?”
Tara raised a brow. “Define ‘dating.’”
“You know,” Rossi said with a smirk, swirling the dregs of his espresso, “intentional time spent with another person involving food, mild vulnerability, and the possibility of kissing.”
A collective groan rippled through the group.
“I’ve gone on two dates this month,” Tara offered, sipping her coffee. “Didn’t stick.”
“I’m married,” JJ said cheerfully.
“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Luke muttered.
That earned a few chuckles. Prentiss arched a brow and tilted her head toward him. “Wait, Alvez— you’re not seeing anyone?”
Luke shrugged. “Nope.”
“Not since Lisa?” Prentiss asked, gently but directly.
“No,” Luke said, meeting her gaze. “But not because I’m hung up or anything. Just… hasn’t been a priority.”
“Too busy brooding?” Tara smirked. “Glowering into the distance? Petting Roxy and pretending you're not a total marshmallow?”
“Jealousy’s not a good look on you,” Luke fired back, leaning into his chair.
At that moment, Garcia appeared, striding past with a stack of glitter-bright folders and a mechanical pencil tucked behind one ear. She paused mid-step, catching just enough of the conversation to roll her eyes dramatically.
“Oh please,” she called out. “The only date this man has is with a protein shake and a punching bag.”
Laughter erupted. Matt shook his head, grinning. “That’s cold.”
Luke stood up then, slow, deliberate. Confident. He turned to face her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“You’re talking a lot of game,” he said, stepping forward until he was just inside her space, “for someone who hasn’t let anyone close in months.”
Garcia blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
“I think,” Luke said, voice low and steady, “you’re afraid I’d actually impress you.”
A chorus of “Ooooohhh!” rang out — JJ and Tara in perfect harmony.
Garcia crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “Alright, Alvez. What exactly are you proposing?”
“One night,” he said. “You and me. If it sucks, you get to roast me for the rest of your life.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then you admit you’re wrong.” He tilted his head. “And maybe… we do it again.”
Even Reid looked up from his book, blinking behind his glasses like he’d just walked into a soap opera. Simmons was already texting under the table, probably reviving the “BAU Gossip” group chat.
JJ let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s a challenge.”
“Oh, he’s serious,” Rossi added, eyes twinkling. “This is a full-on moment.”
Garcia hesitated for a beat—just long enough for Tara to lean over to JJ and murmur, “Is she… buffering?”
Garcia inhaled, regrouped, then lifted her chin. “Fine. You get one night, Alvez. One. Impress me.”
Luke grinned—that small, cocky, infuriating thing he did when he knew he was playing with house money. “Oh, I will. You just have to keep up.”
Garcia walked off without another word, folders tucked to her chest.
The moment she disappeared, Simmons leaned back and exhaled. “Y’all, this is gonna be so good.”
Garcia hadn’t expected this.
She knew Alvez was capable. Thoughtful, even. But this?
This was curated.
The rooftop restaurant was strung with fairy lights, the view of the city skyline shimmering in the early evening haze. A jazz trio played smooth, unobtrusive background music, and the waitstaff glided between tables like they were in a movie.
As soon as they walked in, the host greeted Luke like he was a regular — or maybe just someone who had actually secured a reservation weeks in advance.
Garcia turned to him as they were led to their table — a perfect little corner with a candle flickering between them.
“This place books out like… a month in advance,” she said, sliding into her seat. “Who do you know?” Luke shrugged, smirking. She narrowed her eyes. “So this wasn’t just a last-minute ego trip?”
“Nope. This was always going to be intentional.”
She blinked, then gave him a slow smile. “Okay, what is this? Are you…charming? Is this you trying?”
“I haven’t even started,” he said, eyes warm across the candlelight.
He flirted easily, but more than that, he listened. Really listened. Not the polite nodding type of listening, but the kind where he tilted his head just slightly, like he didn’t want to miss a single word. It made her brain short-circuit in the best way.
She laughed too loud at one of his jokes. Then quieter, warmer, when he gave her a mock-offended look after she stole a fry off his plate. At one point, she realized her cheek hurt from smiling, and… weirdly, she didn’t mind.
As they walked out of the restaurant, stepping into the cool night air, Luke turned to her.
“You up for a nightcap?” he asked casually.
She glanced at him. “I thought this was the grand finale.”
“Nah,” he said with a grin. “That was act one. Come on.”
They walked a few blocks until he led her through a nearly hidden door tucked between a plant shop and a bookstore.
The bar inside was small and cozy, with worn leather booths, exposed brick walls, and soft golden light that made everything feel like a secret.
Garcia looked around, eyebrows raised. “I expected something flashier.”
“I figured you might,” Luke said, guiding her to a booth. “But then I thought… maybe you’ve had enough of people trying to dazzle you instead of actually see you.”
She turned toward him slowly. “Okay… points for insight, Agent Alvez.”
They ordered drinks. Shared a plate of nachos with their second and third rounds. There was no awkward silence — just a comfortable ease between them.
After a pause, Garcia leaned her chin in her hand. “You said earlier I don’t see you. So help me out. What don’t I see?”
Luke’s voice softened as he leaned forward. “You see the stoic guy. The one who keeps his head down and his feelings locked up. But I’ve worked hard to be okay with quiet. It’s where I reset.”
She nodded slowly.
“I notice everything about you,” he added. “Not just the glitter and color and snark — but the way your voice shifts when someone you love is hurting. The way your fingers tremble after a bad case. And how you still manage to believe in good. Even after all we’ve seen.”
Garcia didn’t have a quip for that.
“…Oh,” she said quietly.
“Yeah.”
“You can’t just… say things like that,” she murmured.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too much. And I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t bring my emotional armor tonight.”
Luke smiled gently. “Good. I didn’t bring mine either.”
They sat in that quiet moment, still and calm. Finally, she exhaled. “I don’t want this night to end.”
Luke leaned in just slightly, his voice low. “Then don’t let it.”
They stood just outside her door, the hallway quiet and dim, the hum of the city far below them. Garcia held her keys in one hand but made no move to unlock the door. Her other hand played with the hem of her sleeve — nervous, uncertain, charged.
Luke stood just inches away, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. But he didn’t crowd her. He didn’t lean in until she gave him something.
“I feel like I should say something clever,” she said, glancing up at him with a crooked smile. “But you’ve broken my sarcasm algorithm.”
Luke’s lips twitched into a grin — not smug, not teasing, just… warm. “You don’t have to be clever,” he said, voice soft. “You just have to be honest.”
Garcia looked at him, really looked. The man standing in front of her wasn’t a challenge anymore, or a rival, or a puzzle. He was steady. Grounded. Kind. She felt the truth of it in her chest like a tuning fork.
“I had a really, really good time,” she said, the words slipping out quieter than she intended.
“So did I,” Luke murmured, his voice dipping a notch. He stepped in just a little closer—not touching, still—but close enough that she would only have to tip her chin up to meet him halfway.
“And if you let me…” he said, eyes locked on hers, “I’ll show you how much more there is.”
Something fluttered in her chest. Not panic. Not doubt.
Something bigger.
Her voice was barely a breath. “You can kiss me, you know.”
He smiled at that — soft and reverent, as if the offer itself meant more than the act.
“Not tonight,” Luke said, and there was no hesitation in his voice, no teasing. Just calm, steady certainty. “Not yet.”
Garcia blinked. “What?”
“I want you to trust this,” he said. “I want you to know I’m not just trying to win a dare or chase a spark. I don’t want to rush it or mess it up. You deserve more than a goodnight kiss on night one.”
She stared at him, stunned, blinking like her whole internal wiring needed a reboot. No one had ever said that to her. No one had ever… waited.
No jokes sprang to her lips. No armor. No quips.
Just wide eyes and a full heart.
Buffering.
Luke’s smile widened slightly, but he didn’t press. Just leaned in — slow, gentle — and kissed her cheek, his lips brushing just below her temple, like a promise.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured.
She nodded once, barely breathing. “Yeah.”
When she finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, her fingers were still tingling.
She leaned against the closed door for a long, long moment… then smiled.
Like maybe something real had just started.