31

The precinct welcomed a familiar aura when Morgan walked through the doors, with the infamous box of donuts in hand. She looked like herself again.

That unmistakable energy back in her walk, her expression sharper than it had been in weeks. Her hair was tousled from the wind, her coat slightly rumpled from the bus ride. She'd taken public transit today. Ludo had the car to drive the kids to school. Still, nothing could wipe the smile from her face.

"Gillory's back!" Oz called from his desk, springing to his feet like he was greeting a celebrity. "And she brought donuts!"

"The good kind," Morgan grinned, holding up the bag like a trophy. "Flaky on the outside, soft in the middle. I remembered."

Daphne leaned against the corner of her desk, arms crossed but smiling. "You being back is better than the donuts. Just saying."

Lieutenant Soto peeked out of her office, her face breaking into a warm smile. "Morgan. Good to have you back."

Karadec said nothing. He was standing near the case board, arms folded, observing her with those unreadable eyes of his. But anyone paying attention could see it. The slight lift in his shoulders, the softening of his jawline, the way he watched her a few seconds longer than necessary.

Morgan caught his eye. "Morning, partner."

"Good morning," he said, turning to grab his coat. "To my car. We've got a case."

She blinked, amused. "Not even a 'welcome back' speech?"

"I'll save you from that."

The case took them to a familiar neighborhood. A leafy suburb tucked into the valley, quiet on the surface but harboring secrets underneath.

Morgan's eyes widened slightly as they stepped out of the car.

"This place..."

"Yep," Karadec said. "Same scene."

It was the neighborhood from their very first case together: The Anthony and Lynette Acosta's case. The one with the kidnapped woman the LAPD had originally believed murdered her husband. The one where Morgan, uninvited, had barged into the investigation and solved the whole thing by piecing every single details and discovers clues no one in the department did.

Now, another woman had gone missing. Same zip code. Same socioeconomic profile. Husband dead once again, and a wife who appeared to have ran off.

Morgan and Karadec moved through the investigation like they were synced by muscle memory. She dug into the victim's financials, found inconsistencies in the primary suspect's alibi.

Karadec tracked down neighborhood cameras and questioned a series of reluctant witnesses. They compared notes without needing to speak in full sentences.

"The sister's boyfriend," Morgan said, tapping the file. "She made four transfers to his account in the last week."

"She's protecting him," Karadec said. "Or he's threatening her."

"Both."

They glanced at each other. And nodded.

As they fall back into their familiar rhythms, they both realized just how different they feel for each other now compared to back then.

This case has got to be a little trip-down memory lane.

It was late when they wrapped, the arrest made, statements filed. The sky had gone indigo, the last hints of sunlight bleeding out.

Karadec didn't ask if Morgan needed a ride. He just drove her home.

—

They sat in the car outside her house, the engine humming softly, casting a faint glow over the quiet street.

Morgan leaned back in her seat, exhaling as she kicked off her shoes and rubbed her sore ankle.

"Next time I think about wearing stiletto boots while taking public transit and investigating a murder, stop me. Seriously."

Karadec chuckled, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. "That's what you get for picking fashion over function."

"Excuse me," she said, side-eyeing him playfully. "Some of us have standards."

"Oh, I noticed." He smirked. "Though I think half of your wardrobe violates basic crime scene protocol."

She rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered.

"And yet here I am, solving homicides in suede boots and tailored blazers. What can I say? I contain multitudes."

They laughed, real and unguarded. And for a moment, the weight of the world outside the car disappeared. The air between them felt lighter, familiar.

"I missed this," Morgan said suddenly, turning toward him.

He looked at her, surprised. "The bad puns? Or the part where you hijack the case board and ignore everything I say?"

She nudged his arm. "No. This. Us. The... chaos and comfort. I didn't realize how much I needed it until today."

Karadec's smile faded slowly. Not in a sad way, but in the way something quiet starts to settle in.

"I missed it too," he said, voice lower. "I missed you."

The tone shifted. Just like that. From laughter to something still and soft.

Morgan's lips parted slightly, her expression searching. But she didn't speak.

"I'm really glad you're back, Morgan," he added after a pause, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at him, and the silence in the car took on a new weight.

"Thanks again for the ride," she said gently. "You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He glanced at her. "I like knowing you get home safe."

She smiled at that. But something in his gaze made her still.

"Morgan..." he said carefully, as if trying to find the exact edge of a fragile line. "There's something I've been meaning to say. For a while now. I just... haven't found the right time."

She turned toward him, her smile fading into something more open. "Okay."

He hesitated. Looked down. Then back up.

Then, with a breath, he started.

"When we first met, you drove me nuts. And l know you're completely aware of that. You broke every rule, talked way too much, and had theories that sounded like science fiction. You were loud, unpredictable, stubborn. You never followed protocol."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Keep going. This is flattering."

He smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves now. "And then... you kept being right. About things that didn't make sense. About people I'd written off. You saw things, connections, clues, and motives I never would've caught. And I started listening."

He paused.

"I started trusting you. Not just because you're smart, but because you cared. About the job, the victims, your kids... about all of it."

She held her breath. Her expression shifted, just slightly. Her eyes softening, shoulders tensing with emotion she wasn't ready to name.

Karadec glanced down, his hands on the steering wheel. "You started changing the way I work. The way I think. And then, somewhere in the middle of all that... you changed me."

He let that sit in the air.

"I didn't realize it at first," he continued, voice low. "I thought it was just respect. Admiration. But it's not. It hasn't been for a long time."

Morgan sat still, breath caught between questions and guesses.

Karadec looked at her now, really looked. "I care about you. Not just as my partner. Not just as the woman who walks into a room and turns theories into answers. I care about you as my person."

The silence that followed was thick with meaning.

Then, he swallowed hard.

"As someone I'd choose. Over and over."

Morgan's throat tightened. She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking out the window briefly, as if gathering her thoughts from the trees and rooftops outside.

When she looked back at him, her voice barely found itself.

"Adam..."

Her lips trembled slightly, but she smiled through it.

"You don't have to say anything yet," he cut her off. "I just needed you to know. Because it's getting harder to pretend I don't feel this. And maybe you do too. Or maybe I'm wrong. But if there's a chance you feel the same... I want to be the person you can trust with that."

Morgan's breath hitched. Her voice cracked, just barely. "I just want to say thank you. So much. Not just for what you said. But for caring. For being here. For watching out for me."

He opened his mouth to reply, but she kept going, more gently now.

"And for caring not just about me, but my kids. For being there. Every time. Even when I didn't know how to ask for help."

Karadec's gaze didn't falter.

"I don't just care about them," he said quietly. "I accept them, Morgan. Just... letting you know."

Morgan's eyes glistened faintly under the glow of the dash lights. Her expression was unreadable at first, then warm. Touched. And incredibly human.

"I know," she whispered. "I never doubted that. Not after everything you've done. Not after what you've shown me."

Morgan didn't speak right away. She reached up, gently tucking her hair behind one ear, then looked out the window for a beat.

"And Adam," she said softly, her voice laced with both gratitude and ache. "I feel it too. I do."

His shoulders relaxed. Just a little.

"But I can't—" she paused, biting her lip. "I can't jump into something I'm not ready for. Not when I'm still picking up pieces."

He nodded slowly.

"It's not about not wanting it," she added quickly, her words pouring out with care. "It's just... Roman is still out there. That part of my life is a loose thread, and I don't know where it leads yet. And my kids... I have to think of them, too. Of what I bring into their world."

"I understand," he said, voice steady. "I just wanted to be honest with you."

There was a flicker of pain behind his eyes, but he covered it well.

"I just need time," she whispered. "To process. To make space for something new. For you."

He let that sink in, then gave a quiet nod.

"You take all the time you need," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Morgan offered a grateful smile, full of warmth and regret all at once. "Thank you."

A long silence passed, but this time, it didn't ache.

Their eyes met one last time.

He smiled faintly. "Goodnight, Morgan."

"Goodnight," she said gently.

She stepped out of the car and walked toward her door, her figure small under the porch light. He waited until she was inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

Then, alone in the car, Karadec sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, and muttered to himself—

"Guess it's a whiskey night."

He started the engine and drove off into the quiet streets, the city lights blurring past, his thoughts louder than the radio.

For the first time in his life, he stopped running from it. And he let himself feel it fully. Honestly.

He's in love with Morgan.

But now, all he could do is wait.

Wait to see if she felt the same, or if she even had an answer to give.