Chapter Text
Four weeks passed in a blur of shared early mornings and late-night calls. Their rhythm was quickly established: Lucy often stayed at Kate’s, waking to the scent of perfectly brewed coffee and the quiet sight of Kate organizing her day; they traded easy jokes and soft touches in the staff lounge when Kate’s shift schedule aligned with Lucy’s coffee runs.
The initial fear had faded, replaced by the comfortable, steady knowledge that they were in this, together.
The domestic bliss, as Lucy privately dubbed it, was found in the small things: two mugs on Kate’s pristine white counter instead of one; the scent of Kate’s soft citrus shampoo lingering on Lucy’s pillow after Kate had gone to the hospital; the small, unconscious smile Kate wore when she saw Lucy had already started the coffee.
This morning, Lucy was standing in front of Kate’s infamous, perfectly organized closet. She wasn’t looking at the identical black slacks; she was admiring the single, brightly colored hanger that held her favorite battered leather jacket... the space Kate had symbolically made for her.
Kate walked up behind her, fresh from the shower, wrapping her arms loosely around Lucy’s waist and resting her chin on Lucy’s shoulder. She smelled of soap and quiet mornings.
“Staring at my wardrobe again?” Kate murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.
“I’m studying your systems,” Lucy replied, tracing the collar of her jacket. “It’s impressive. I organize mine by whatever falls off the chair last.”
Kate pressed a soft kiss to Lucy’s neck. “I noticed.”
“I’ve also noticed that you have three dozen pairs of socks, all folded the same way,” Lucy added, amused, “and yet you keep stealing my ratty college T-shirts.”
“They’re comfortable,” Kate defended, squeezing her. “And they smell like you.”
Lucy turned in Kate’s arms, looping her own arms around Kate’s neck. “Good answer, Doctor.”
“What’s the plan today, journalist?” Kate asked softly.
“I have to interview the new head of the State Planning Commission. He’s insufferable.” Lucy groaned. “I’m prepping by lowering my IQ”.
“Be nice,” Kate teased.
“Never.” Lucy’s smile faded slightly. “What about you? Another twenty-hour shift saving lives?”
“Only twelve today,” Kate said, but her expression tightened slightly.
“Actually... I need to tell you something,”
Lucy’s stomach tightened. Kate’s 'It’s time to be serious voice' always did that.
“The Queen’s Medical Foundation is holding their board-level Donor Appreciation Dinner this Saturday,” Kate said slowly. “I have to attend as part of Administration.”
Lucy blinked. She immediately thought of the viral photo of Kate and Dr. Hale. Her stomach tightened, not with jealousy, but with the sudden awareness of the chasm between their worlds. “Didn’t you just have one of those?” she said.
Kate gave a faint, tired smile. “Different donors. Different expectations.”
Lucy forced a smile. “Ah yes. The realm of polite smiles and funding sharks.”
“It’s very formal,” Kate added. “Black tie.”
“Fun.”
Kate swallowed, and for once, she looked nervous- Kate, who could perform emergency surgery during an earthquake.
“I want you to come with me,” Kate said quietly. She took Lucy’s hands, holding them with a kind of brave sincerity that hit Lucy right in the chest. “Not as a colleague. Not as a plus-one. As my girlfriend.”
Lucy’s heart fluttered. This wasn’t a cozy dinner date; this was being introduced to Kate’s professional world, a world of politics, money, and polished expectations.
“You want to take the chaos journalist to your black-tie event?” Lucy asked, trying to sound teasing, but her voice betrayed her nerves.
“I want to take my girlfriend,” Kate corrected. “I want to walk into that room with the woman I...”
She stopped.
Lucy felt it anyway... the brief hitch of breath, the warmth that spread too fast to name... and then Kate had already corrected herself.
The silence stretched, thin but not uncomfortable.
Kate’s jaw tightened slightly before she continued, voice lower, steadier. “With the woman I’m with,” she finished. “With you.”
Lucy swallowed. “That’s a big step, Kate,” Lucy said softly. “Are you sure? Those are the exact people who love gossip.”
Kate squeezed Lucy’s hands. “I’m sure. I’m choosing you, Lucy. If people talk, they talk. If they have a problem with it, that’s their problem, not ours.”
Warmth and fear crashed together in Lucy’s chest.
“Okay,” she said finally, a slow smile spreading. “I’m in. But I don’t own black tie. I barely own ‘clean’.”
Kate's eyes sparkled. "We'll figure it out together. And you'll be perfect."
Lucy didn't feel perfect.
But she felt chosen.
And-for now-that was enough.
......
Lucy walked into the bullpen later that morning with all the subtlety of someone trying desperately to appear normal. She failed instantly.
Jesse's head snapped up. Kai's swivel chair did a full rotation. Ernie dropped his pastry.
"Oh my God," Ernie gasped. "You're doing the face."
"I am not doing a face," Lucy said, doing a face.
"The face," Kai confirmed. "The 'I'm spiraling and hiding it badly' face."
Jesse crossed his arms. "Okay. What happened? Did she dump you? Did you dump her? Did someone die? Did you adopt a dog without telling us?"
Lucy threw her hands up. "No! Nothing bad happened!"
They stared.
She deflated. "Okay, something happened."
Ernie dragged a chair in front of her like an FBI interrogator. "Start. Talking."
Lucy took a breath.
"Kate invited me to a donor gala."
Three blinks.
Simultaneous.
Dangerous.
“A black-tie donor gala?” Jesse repeated.
“For the Queen’s Medical Foundation?” Kai added.
“With... Kate Whistler?” Ernie squeaked.
Lucy dramatically dropped her forehead onto her desk. “YES.”
“And this is bad why?” Jesse asked.
Lucy lifted her head, wide-eyed, borderline feral. “Because I do not belong in that world! I don’t own a gown! I don’t speak fancy donor language! Someone will ask me about fiscal endowments and I will answer with a Star Wars reference!”
Kai patted her shoulder. "You're spiraling."
"I AM A SPIRAL," Lucy declared.
She pressed her palms flat to the desk like it might stop the room from tilting.
“It’s not just a fancy dinner,” she said finally. “It’s… her world. The version of Kate that wears tailored dresses and talks in full sentences about donor pipelines.”
Jesse tilted his head. “And?”
“And I’m not that,” Lucy said, frustration creeping in. “I’m going to say something wrong or laugh too loud or make a joke that lands badly, and suddenly I’m not Lucy... I’m Kate’s journalist girlfriend who doesn’t know how to behave.”
The words came out sharper than she meant.
Kai frowned. “You think she’ll be embarrassed by you.”
Lucy swallowed. “I think she’ll never say it. Which is worse.”
Ernie's eyes widened with dawning comprehension. "Oh God. You think you're not enough for her."
Lucy froze. Her throat tightened.
Then, barely audible: "Yes."
The words finally out in the open, her shoulders sagged.
“I love her,” Lucy whispered. “And she wants to bring me into this world where power and politics and money don’t get questioned – they get applauded. And I’m...” She gestured at herself helplessly. “I own one pair of heels. ONE.”
Jesse softened instantly, crouching beside her chair. "Lucy. Listen to me. Kate could have brought anyone from her immaculate, terrifyingly competent circle. But she didn't. She chose you. Not in spite of who you are. Because of it."
Kai nodded. "You ground her."
Kai added gently, “Also? If anyone underestimates you, that’s their mistake. You dismantle people for a living.”
Ernie nudged her knee. "And if anyone at that gala has a problem with you? We will collectively ruin their lives."
Lucy laughed-wet, shaky, but real.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “I still feel like I’m going to throw up, but... thanks.”
Jesse wiggled his eyebrows. “So. Have you told her?”
“Told her what?”
“That you love her,” he sing-songed.
Lucy groaned. “No. And don’t look at me like that! We’re both busy! I want it to be special, not something I blurt out between coffee runs!”
"Okay," Jesse said, standing decisively. "Step one: we're taking you shopping."
“Oh no,” Lucy whispered.
“Oh yes,” all three said in eerie unison.
Lucy groaned into her hands.
But for the first time that morning, the fear loosened.
They had her.
Kate had her.
Maybe-just maybe-she could belong in that world after all.
....
By the time Lucy finally made it home that night, the panic had dulled, but it hadn’t gone away.
It hovered.
She lay awake longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, replaying Kate’s words.
As my girlfriend.
The confidence in her voice. The certainty.
Lucy rolled onto her side, phone warm in her hand.
Kate: Home safe?
Lucy smiled faintly.
Lucy: Yeah. Still processing. But… I’m good.
Kate: You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.
Lucy: I know.
She stared at the screen for a moment longer before typing:
Lucy: Thank you for choosing me.
There was a pause... long enough to make Lucy’s chest tighten.
Then:
Kate: Always.
Lucy closed her eyes, letting the word settle.
She still didn’t know how she was going to survive a black-tie gala. But she knew one thing for sure. She wasn’t doing it alone.
By mid-morning, she was back at the media office, pretending to work while her brain cycled through worst-case scenarios.
She Googled:
What is black tie?
How formal is black tie?
Can journalists wear combat boots to black tie?
The answer, tragically, was no.
Her phone buzzed.
Jesse: Lunch?
Lucy stared at the message, then typed back:
Lucy: Only if lunch includes emotional support and possibly alcohol.
Jesse: Perfect. Wear shoes you can run in.
She should have known.
They didn’t go to lunch.
Lucy realized this the moment Jesse’s car turned in the opposite direction of every food option she trusted.
“Where are we going?” she asked carefully.
“Forward,” Kai said from the back seat.
Ernie leaned between the front seats. “Toward fashion.”
Lucy closed her eyes. “I hate all of you.”
“No you don’t,” Jesse said calmly. “You’re about to look incredible.”
The car stopped abruptly.
Ernie opened his door and announced, far too cheerfully, "Welcome to the Lion's Den."
Lucy looked up.
Glass windows. Soft lighting. Mannequins draped in fabric that looked like it cost more than her rent. A minimalist sign in tasteful serif lettering that did not believe in second chances.
She stared.
"I can't go in there," Lucy said faintly.
Jesse was already walking. "You absolutely can."
Kai clapped his hands once. "Okay. Black tie. Chaos journalist. Let's make history."
The boutique door chimed softly as Lucy stepped inside.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just quietly judgmental.
The air smelled like expensive fabric and restraint. Everything was pale wood, clean lines, soft lighting that seemed designed to expose flaws while pretending not to.
Lucy stopped just past the threshold.
She was wearing clean jeans today. A decent blazer. Her “I tried" outfit.
Still, she felt wildly underqualified.
"This place hates me," she murmured.
Jesse didn't slow. "It doesn't know you yet."
Kai was already scanning the racks like a strategist. "Okay. Black tie, but not costume. Elegant, but not erase-her-personality elegant."
Ernie nodded gravely. "She must still look like she could yell at a city council meeting."
"Thank you," Lucy said. "That's the dream."
A woman appeared out of nowhere.
She was tall, impeccably dressed, and wore the kind of calm smile that suggested she had seen every possible version of panic and had decided long ago not to comment on it.
“Good afternoon,” the woman said smoothly. “Welcome. What brings you in today?”
“We’re looking for black tie,” Jesse said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. “But approachable.”
“And not funeral,” Lucy added quickly.
“And not bridal,” Kai said.
“And not something that screams I borrowed this from my mom,” Ernie chimed in.
The woman blinked. “Of course.”
Lucy was ushered into a fitting room with an armful of dresses that all felt like they required a trust fund and a therapist.
She stared at the first one – sleek, black, backless.
“No,” she muttered. “Kate works with surgeons. They notice posture. I would be exposed as a fraud immediately.”
Dress two was emerald green and aggressively elegant.
She stepped out.
Kai squinted. “Okay but... that’s dangerously good.”
Lucy looked at her reflection. The dress hugged her just right – confident without trying too hard.
She swallowed. “I look like I belong in a room where people make donations with commas.”
Jesse smiled gently. “You do.”
She tried the next dress. Too sparkly.
Ernie shielded his eyes. "You're blinding donors. That's a power move, but maybe not the right one."
Another dress - red, dramatic.
Lucy stepped out and immediately shook her head. “Kate would think I was trying to make a statement.”
Kai nodded solemnly. “And the statement would be journalist arrives with vengeance.”
The stylist returned with a few more options, including a navy pantsuit draped neatly over her arm.
Lucy paused. “Can I try that too?”
“Of course.”
The pantsuit fit well-tailored, sharp, comfortable in a way that felt familiar. Lucy studied herself in the mirror, hands sliding easily into the pockets.
“I don’t hate this,” she said.
Kai nodded. “Very competent. You look like someone people take seriously.”
Lucy turned, checking the line of the jacket. “I feel... solid,” she said. Not dressed up. Just steady.
Jesse smiled. “Good option.”
Lucy held the thought for a moment, then stepped back into the fitting room.
When she came out again, this time in a midnight blue dress, she stopped short.
The room went quiet-not dramatically, just the way it does when something lands.
The dress was simple. Clean lines. Nothing trying too hard. It moved easily when she shifted her weight, like it already knew her.
Lucy looked at her reflection and smiled, a little surprised.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
Jesse tilted his head. "There she is."
Kai smiled. “Yeah. That one.”
Lucy smoothed the fabric once, thoughtful. “This feels like me too,” she said. “Just.. a version that decided to dress up.”
Ernie clapped once. "Kate is going to short-circuit."
Lucy’s phone buzzed.
Kate: Everything ok?
Lucy stared at the screen, heart thudding.
Lucy: I’ve been abducted for formalwear. Will survive.
A pause.
Kate: You don’t have to do this if it’s too much.
Lucy exhaled slowly and typed back.
Lucy: I want to. I’m just... learning how to exist in fancy lighting.
Another pause.
Kate: Ok. Text me if you need an out. Or a reminder that I want you there.
Lucy swallowed, warmth settling where panic had been.
Lucy: I know. Thank you.
Kate: Whatever you wear, you'll be the best part of the room.
Lucy closed her eyes for half a second.
When she looked up, Jesse was watching her with a knowing smile.
"Text from the terrifying surgeon?" he asked.
Lucy nodded. "She just emotionally stabilized me via text message."
Kai smiled faintly. "That’s nice."
Lucy turned back to the mirror. She didn't look smaller. She didn't look like she was borrowing someone else's life.
She looked like someone standing beside the woman she loved.
"Okay," she said finally. "I think this is it."
Ernie wiped an imaginary tear. "She's ready."
Lucy laughed, lighter than she had all morning.
For the first time since the invitation, the gala didn't feel like a test. It felt like a night she was allowed to walk into exactly as she was.