Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is all Ron’s fault.

At least, that’s what’s going through Flip’s brain, as he pulls up to the somewhat-familiar, white brick building at the corner of Maple and Tenth. He parks his truck and zips up his parka before emerging into the chill. There are maybe a half-dozen cars in the lot, and Ron’s is not among them. He grits his teeth and heads for the entrance. He’d promised to donate his time, and he’s not one to go back on his promises. If nothing else, Flip is a man of his word.

(Besides, he’d never hear the end of it from Ron if he backed out now. Not without a damn good reason, something akin to being in the hospital,in traction, or something of the like.)

Flip steps inside, the warmth of the hall a welcome contrast to the outside world. He shakes the snowflakes from his hair and stalks down the long corridor, footsteps echoing in the hall as he follows the signs pointing to the Harvest for Good kitchen.

He turns the knob and enters what appears to be the reception area. The walls are in need of a paint job and the small couch pushed to one side has clearly seen better days. There’s a spindly-looking artificial tree set up in one corner, that someone’s tried to doll-up with a few glittery garlands and flickering multicolored lights. He’s never had a tree of his own, of course–his mom would never have allowed it, but he’s seen A Charlie Brown Christmas at a friend’s house once-okay, probably multiple times, as a kid--and it reminds him of that one. The thought makes his mouth quirk up in spite of himself.

There doesn’t seem to be another person about, and he wonders if maybe he’d confused the days or the times. There’s a pile of flyers and a sign-in sheet laid out on a table, Flip scribbles his name and arrival time and then flops down into one of the chairs to wait. He kinda wants a cigarette, wonders if he’d enough time to duck out and smoke before they call him when he hears someone enter the room from another door.

He crosses his legs and reaches for a copy of Time from the side table and flips through it. He’ll have to call Ron as soon as he gets out of here. Flip grits his teeth, frustration growing with each passing minute. He could be home right now, watching The Bears game and sipping a beer. It is his day off, after all.

Flip’s thoughts are interrupted when the inner door swings open. A pretty young girl comes in, smiles and reaches for the sign-in sheet.

“Oh! Sorry to keep you. Have you been waiting long?” she asks, and he shakes his head, shrugs.

“Great! It’s a prep day, so these are always quieter than serving days. I’m Kaydel, by the way.”

“I’m Flip.” He shoots her a flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Kaydel dimples, her cheeks going a little pink.

Sure, she's too young for him by a mile, he can tell already.  But that doesn't mean Flip couldn’t enjoy the buzz he gets from making a pretty young girl blush.

“Come on back, and I’ll show you the kitchen!” she chirps, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

Flip bites down on a smirk. Yeah, I still got it.

He follows her, back through the door and into a huge, brightly-lit kitchen space. Despite the sad, forlorn state of the reception area, this part of the operation appears to be more highly funded. The huge refrigerator that dominates the room is a Sub-Zero, and it looks brand new. Ditto for the professional-looking six-burner stove.

“Wow,” he blurts, eyes taking in the two other people already in the room, busy doing prep. Both are absorbed in their tasks, a man and a woman, both bent over the counter, chopping potatoes and other vegetables. “This is more….high end, than I would have expected.”

Kaydel’s smile widens. “We’ve had lots of donations of equipment lately. So let me introduce you to today’s prep crew. It’s small today,” she makes a vague gesture in the direction of the stove. “Flip, let me introduce you to our volunteers for the day. There’ll be a lot more people if you come back another day this week.”

Both heads turn, at her words. When Flip sees the face of one of them, a slender brunette, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, wearing a scowl–everything stops. He doesn’t even hear the name of the guy Kaydel mentions because his brain is already fizzing behind his ears.

He barely hears it when Kaydel says:

“...and this is Rey.”

A familiar pair of hazel eyes capture his, narrowing in judgment.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

*******

Four years earlier.

Flip strolls into the record rooms, a cocky grin on his face as he saunters up to the counter. The girl behind the desk avoids his eyes for as long as she can, he can tell, but he won’t let that continue.

He hadn’t been able to stop teasing her since she arrived, and really, it was all his fault. The poor girl didn't deserve any of this.

Flip had been teasing, flirting, aggravating the new recruit since she’d started at the precinct, and it was clearly wearing her down.

But she was so cute. Sassy, pretty and bright. He couldn't help himself. He just had to let himself fuck with her, just a tiny bit. There was something about her that wouldn't let him leave her alone, much to her obvious chagrin.

    “Hey there, can I get some service?” he called out, pounding on the desk like it was an imaginary bell, and they were n some kind of upscale hotel. He was  obnoxious with it, leaning fully into the assholery of the moment. He just…couldn't help himself, for some reason.  Whatever. 

The girl’s eyes flickered up to meet his, and he felt a ripple of something under his skin. Bright eyes.  Sharp, almost cutting.

   “Yeah,” she replied, her tone low, soft and measured, but with an angry edge to it. She reminded him of a jungle cat, the way her fingers flexed against the counter where she gripped it. This girl was a powerful presence wrapped up in a tiny package, not a cougar, maybe, but definitely a bobcat, ready to spring, to fight back, maybe even to devour. “What do you need?”

Flip’s mouth curled into an obsequious grin.

“The file on Hawthorne,” he said, lips tilting up into an obsequious grin. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Unsurprisingly, the girl scoffed, turning her eyes away from him and back to the task at hand. She flicked through, found what he was asking for and held it out to him, still wearing a supremely bored expression.

“Well, thank you very much, missy. I do hope that didn’t put too much of a crick in your to-do list.”

**********

The memory flashes through his brain, bright and searing hot, and he wants to cringe, to crawl away from it. But, look. Flip has worked through years of shit. As a cop, he’s seen all kinds of things. He’s trained to handle conflict, to diffuse, to make the best of a bad situation. But he’s not quite as good at dealing with more personal shit, of knowing how to admit he’s fucked up. He’s not good at apologizing, for being an asshole. So….the next best strategy, in Flip’s experience, is always to deflect. It works, sometimes, but it’s clearly not going to work today. He can already feel it.

Those beautiful hazel eyes hold his, and ah shit. If she didn’t recognize him, this would all be so much easier. But he can’t pretend at this point, it’d be ridiculous.

“Ah…hey,” Flip says, acknowledging both Rey and the guy–what’s his name? It sounded like Bin…Ben, maybe? He holds out a hand to shake, and the guy nods, thankfully not as cold as his counterpart.

“Finn,” he repeats, with a slight quirk of his lips, and Flip nods, smiling pleasantly. Finn’s eyes dart back to Rey, as if waiting for her approval.

“Nice to meet you,” Flip drawls, offering a hand out to shake Finn’s before flicking his gaze back to meet Rey’s disdainful look.

Finn’s response is a muffled hum, and Flip suddenly realizes that these two know each other. And not just know each other, they’re close. Like….really close.  He's almost afraid to wonder how close.  

“We’ve met before,” Rey adds, cautious and maybe even a little cold, with a dull-eyed stare that might have made him weak in the knees, in different circumstances. 

 Y’know, if he was, like, into that kind of thing.   But mostly, what he really feels, right now, is regret. 

“We worked together, but I guess you wouldn’t remember that, Detective.” It’s snarky, she’s almost snarling, and Flip can’t help but curl in on himself a little. He knows he’s fucked up in the past and it’s not going to go away that easy. Plus, she was just a records clerk at the time and Flip was a Detective-in-Training, so to say they “worked together” was a maybe, a little bit of a stretch.

His mouth falls open, ready to defend himself, but instead, he just shakes his head.

“Yeah. I do.”

Rey’s response is a rough grumble that makes him fold into himself a bit more. Fuck. He’s here to a job after all. He’s gonna at least try, all other distractions be damned.

Flip shakes loose of his own thoughts and addresses Kaydel again, asking what he can do to help. He can tell already, by Rey’s expression, the set of her jaw, that she’s not going to allow him in.  He's lucky that she'll even acknowledge her existence, at this point.  

Shit. Why did he agree to do this?

Chapter Text

The nearly ninety minutes that follow Flip’s arrival in the pantry kitchen are tense, at best.  At first, he just works in silence, determined to finish the task he’d been given.  Rey is clearly just as determined to ignore him as she works, chatting only with Finn.  They’re obviously close, and from the sideways glances he gets from the other man, Flip can only assume that she must have told him about their previous encounter from a few years back.  But all he can do is grit his teeth, avoid making any untoward comments and go about peeling the goddamn potatoes and cutting up onions.  Which, well.  After ten minutes of that, his eyes are watering far more than he ever thought possible.  

The only distraction is the radio, predictably churning out an endless flow of Christmas favorites.  Rocking Around the Christmas Tree, Jingle Bell Rock,  Blue Christmas.  He has to admit, though , that The Boss’s version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town makes him smile.  Springsteen is Jewish, like himself, yet he’d put his whole self into performance.  Of course, the passion he puts into everything he does is well-known, but still.  It would have been a little cheesy, except for the pure joy that comes through that live performance.  Nothing cheesy about it at all.  It's even a little inspiring, maybe. 

Theoretically, Flip could be just about anywhere else right now.  He could be at home, watching the game, having a beer.  Or in his favorite tavern, shooting darts.  But instead–he’s here.  Two days before Christmas.  Not that he celebrates, but still.  The universe is cruel sometimes.

Flip manages to handle being ignored, keeps quiet and doesn’t try to insert himself into the conversation.   At some point, Finn grumbles something about needing to use the loo– he’s got a faint British accent which only underscores their connection.  Because he remembers that Rey was originally from England.  He’s not sure where, though, but that accent sure was cute. Still is.  Less so, coming out of the mouth of this guy, but it’s whatever.  

He holds out, until it’s just the two of them in the wide, brightly-lit kitchen, Rey still pointedly ignoring him, though with the way her eyebrows pinch together a bit, it’s clear that she’s fully aware of his presence.  

Flip takes a deep breath and dives in.  

“So,” he starts.   Rey’s head swivels, eyes dark and judgmental as she meets his in a sharp glare.  Somehow, it has the unfortunate effect of making his pulse race.  He pauses, momentarily knocked off his game, but then somehow manages to push through.  “What uh….what have you been doing with your life, Rey? These past few years?”

Her lips pull at the corners, that pretty mouth quirking into a sardonic smile. 

"Are you serious? You actually want to try to catch up with me, after all this time?” She says, with a roll of her eyes.  

Flip swallows hard.  He'll try to make the best of it.  “Sure.  Why not?”

“Oh please,” she breathes out, setting down the knife in her hand that she’d been wielding with a flourish.  If Flip was anyone else, he might be just the tiniest bit intimidated by the expert way she handled it.  And yet, hard to admit as it is, it's kind of...hot.  He really doesn't have the strength of mind to figure that out, so he keeps his mouth shut.  Rey keeps talking. 

“We were never coworkers.  That implies being on equal terms.  But you,” she says, gesturing vaguely at his chest, “were my superior, or something like it, and you never made me feel like anything close to your equal.  Or even like I deserved to be there.” 

He blinks twice, as his brain rushes to process her words.  The sickly feeling in his stomach has started to grow, as she continues to look at him in that disdainful way.  

“I’m…” he stops, gathers himself for a moment before continuing. “I didn't know it was that bad.  I never really thought about it.  Besides, you didn't stick around long enough for us to ever get to know each other." 

She rolls her eyes so hard it's almost audible.  

"Look," Flip says, frustration growing.  " I wish things didn’t happen the way they did.  But it’s been years, like four years, and ya know.  Things change, alright? People change.” 

She takes him in, those hazel eyes holding his in a way that stirs something deep inside.  There’s nothing but a matter of minutes, seconds really, before Flip realizes what he needs to do.  He needs to apologize, and he needs to mean it.  Even if she doesn’t accept it, even if it goes nowhere.  It’s the right thing to do, and if he’s learned anything in the past four years, since they first met, it’s that he can learn. Change.  Grow.  That he can be a better person. 

But before he can voice any of his thoughts aloud, Finn is striding back into the room, and the moment is shattered.  Flip curses himself for his hesitation.  Or maybe for who he was, in the past.  For being the guy that Rey can hardly stand to be in the same room with. 

The rest of the shift feels unnaturally long.  Rey barely acknowledges him, except for the moment right before they pack up for the day.  With the bowls and utensils washed and put away, Finn says something about meeting her out at the car. Rey pauses at the doorway to glance over at Flip. 

“I’m just curious,” she says, voice pitched low.  “You don’t seem like the kind of person to want to do charity work.  So….why are you here?” 

Flip winces.  “Ouch.” 

Rey shakes her head, but her eyes are softer when she looks back at him.  “I just mean, it never seemed to be your kind of thing, back then.”

She’s not wrong.  He hates that she’s not wrong.  

“That isn’t something I spent a lot of time thinking about,” he admits.  “Never had to, I guess.”

Rey nods slowly. “Yeah, that checks out,” she says, not unkindly.  “I spent years living in an orphanage, so you know.  It’s always been important to me to give back to the system that helped me.”

He swallows hard.  It feels like a rock scraping the sides of his throat. 

While Flip never thought of his childhood as an exemplary one, he’s hard pressed to recall any episode where he had to deal with the kind of shit Rey’s talking about.  He’d always had a home, enough to eat.  Always knew who his parents were, always knew that they loved him. Even in the worst of times.

“Yeah.  That makes sense.” He agrees.  Rey’s eyes widen a little, but it’s hard to say if it’s from annoyance or surprise–maybe a mixture of both.  He opens his mouth to say more but nothing else comes out.  

“Yeah, well.  Happy holidays, and all that,” she tosses out.  It sounds genuine, but he can’t quite be sure if there isn’t a drop of sarcasm mixed in. “See ya.” 

She’s standing in the doorway, coat collar pulled up. 

“Yeah.  See you again, maybe,” he tries.  “When will you be back?”

“Christmas Day,” she says flatly, like it's obvious.  Like he's every inch the idiot Flip is starting to suspect he actually is.   “I always come in on Christmas Day.”  With that, she’s gone, the snow crunching under her fluffy red boots.  Flip just stands there, watching, until she reaches Finn's car and climbs into the passenger seat.   He’s still watching as they drive away.

He continues to think about her, at home, as he pulls a container of leftover pasta from the fridge.  For the first time in the four years since Rey had left the precinct, she’s on his mind.  Not in passing, the way she’d been back then, when he’d admired her eyes.  Her body, too,  when she’d wear those tight skirts with boots.  It hits him suddenly, that she never wore clothes that most people would consider revealing.  She was just being fashionable, on a budget, maybe, but she made it work.  And he–just like every other guy who worked the precinct–couldn’t help it if he drooled over her a little.  Stared at her ass when she wore those cute jeans.  Tried to sneak a glance down her blouse.  But now, for the first time, he’s actually starting to feel like shit about it. 

 The way she’d looked at him today, the pure disdain in her eyes had cut him to his core.  Now, he can’t stop replaying random days, random moments from those months that she worked at the precinct.  It hadn't been more than 7 or 8 months, he’s sure.   When she’d up and left, Flip had always assumed she’d just found something better.  But now, he can’t shake the thought that his own behavior might have played a role.  

The chiming of his iphone yanks him from his dismal thoughts, and Flip reaches for it.  A message from Ron.  

He’s already smirking as he opens the app.

RonTheMan:  So, how did things go today, my dude? Assuming you actually made it to the soup kitchen and all.  

Flip rolls his eyes, pointless since no one else will see it, especially not the man to whom it’s directed, but it feels natural and he feels no need to curb the tendency.

You: I did.  It went okay, I guess.  Ran into someone there, she used to work at the precinct several years back. Before you arrived.  You don’t know her.

RontheMan: Huh, interesting.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that this nameless woman was actually more important to you than you’re letting on, Am I warm?

Flip pauses, gives himself a long few seconds to think carefully before sending his response.   Ron’s typical texting fashion was more formal than necessary, and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.  

Flip:  Not important like you mean, I’m just rethinking a few things

He breaks off, his mind aswirl with questions and emotions.  If it had been anyone else, they likely would have let it go.  But not Ron, nope. 

RontheMan: Things? Lol You’ll have to do better than that, Phillip.  

Flips sighs.  Deflection wouldn’t work with Ron, he knows this.  He’d made that clear since they’d first become partners three years earlier.   It’s part of why they’d become such close friends.  Well, that and working side by side to bring down a rogue KKK cell in Colorado Springs. 

Flip: I might have been kind of a dick to her while she was working there.  

He winces after sending the admission, but Ron’s answer is swift and nonjudgmental.

RontheMan: Go on. 

Flip: Might be easier to actually talk about this.  You busy right now? 

RontheMan: Luckily you caught me at the right time.  My lady is out at the store.  Call away.

They spend more than twenty minutes on the phone, Flip hashing out what he remembers about his time working with Rey at the precinct.  About how he’d never really thought of his behavior as anything more than teasing.  Sure, he might have known he was annoying but the idea that he’d ever actually hurt Rey’s feelings wasn’t something he’d considered.  

“I’ve gotta get off the line,” Ron says at last.  “Patrice is gonna want some help with the groceries.  We’re supposed to make Christmas cookies tonight, so.  You know how it is.”

Flip smiles, his chest twinging at the thought because, no, he doesn't know how it is.  What it feels like to share domestic duties with someone close to you. Aside from his growing up years, he’s never  had that. Not with a partner. 

“That sounds nice,” Flip says, almost wistful.

“Yeah, it  is.  Never thought I’d be so into this whole domestic thing.” 

“I dunno what’s taking you so long to pop the question.  You guys have been together for more than two years!” Flip says it like a joke, fully expecting Ron to back off from the reminder.   

“Oh, it’ll happen when it happens, brother.  Maybe sooner than you think,” Ron says, and Flip can hear the smile in his voice.  “Oh, and you’re still joining us for Christmas dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,  but I might show up a little late.  Thinking about going back to the soup kitchen earlier in the day and then I’ll swing by after.”

Ron barks out a knowing laugh.  “This wouldn’t have to do with the fact that a certain former file clerk will be there, would it?”

Flip huffs at how easily his friend sees right through him. “I plead the Fifth.”

**********

The next day comes and goes uneventfully for Flip.  It’s Christmas Eve, but the holiday’s never held any special meaning for him, for obvious reasons.  For most of his life, Christmas meant settling in for movie marathons and ordering Chinese from his favorite place.   That had started to change, once he and Ron became friends and started up a relationship with Patrice.  For the past couple of years, Flip had been invited over to their place for dinner.   That first year, they’d even surprised him with a couple of small gifts: a new Zippo lighter and a scarf that Patrice had knitted in his favorite colors, cherry red and cobalt blue.   From that year on, Flip made sure to always bring something for each of them when he showed up.  

He hadn’t remembered to get something this year though, which means once his shift was over, he’s wandering the bustling halls of Cheyenne Mountain shopping mall, which is open until 9.  Flip picks out a Chicago Bulls jersey for Ron–his favorite NBA team– and a bath set for Patrice in a fragrance he knows she likes.  Not the most creative choices, but oh well.  He’d be damned if he’d walk in there empty handed. 

And if a pair of flashing hazel eyes and a sweet British accent lingers in the back of his mind for the entire day, no one else needs to know. 

*******

The snow starts early Christmas morning.  It comes down in great, messy clumps, promising hazardous travel conditions for any locals who dare venture out today.  Flip decides to get to Harvest for Good as early as he can, so at least he can leave early and hopefully avoid the worst of the snow later on.  It’s not like he won’t have the option to stay over at Ron and Patrice’s place tonight, if necessary.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

It’s nearly noon when he arrives at the soup kitchen, and he's not surprised to see the line that snakes out from the main door.  As politely as he can, Flip weaves his way past the people to make his way to the kitchen where he’d been just days earlier.  He spots Kaydel right away, and another woman he doesn’t recognize.  She’s tall with a gorgeous chocolate complexion, her hair done up in intricate box braids.  

Kaydel greets him with a smile, her brows pinched a little in confusion. 

“Hello again! Didn’t expect to see you today! Are you uh, on the list?” 

Flip frowns, glancing around to note the number of people already working away in the huge space.   He doesn’t spot Rey right away, but as his eyes continue their search, he finally spots her farther down the line, talking with another person–a young girl.  So he guesses her boyfriend (?) isn’t with her today.  

“I’m uh, not no.  I just figured I’d show up, see if you needed extra help?” he admits sheepishly.  It really hadn’t occurred to him that all the slots would be full and that they wouldn’t need more help.  He figured they’d need all hands on deck, as many hands as they could get hold of, but maybe he’s wrong.  

Kaydel’s face falls a bit.  “O-oh, well, um.  Christmas Day is actually one of our best-attended.  We usually have a surplus of volunteers for the first half of the day.  As you can see,” she says, gesturing around them, “every station is filled.”

Flip swallows.  His stomach flips over, hoping he didn’t make the trip here for no reason. 

“But, most people want to leave early so they can get to their families, so we’re often lacking on clean-up crew,” she adds, voice ticking up.  “If, you know, you’d be willing to do that.”

He nods quickly.  “Yeah, that’s not a problem.  I don’t celebrate Christmas, so.  Ya know.  I got no place to be,” Flip shrugs, offering a little smile.  It seems to be enough, and Kaydel brightens. 

“Perfect! That’s perfect.”  She leads him over to the serving line.  There are plastic plates, utensils, napkins and cups laid out.  “For now, could you help just making sure we’re stocked here, and backing up the servers as needed? You know, if anyone needs a break? That would be a huge help.” 

Flip smiles easily.  “Of course.  I’d be happy to.”  

She beams at him.  “Thanks, Flip.  You’re a lifesaver.”  

He nods, shrugs it off.  It’s not even a minute later that his eyes catch Rey’s.  She’s heading up the serving line, clearly leading the pack of other volunteers.  It’s clear that she’s done this many, many times.  When their eyes meet, her brow darkens briefly, before her attention gets drawn back to the line.  

Later.  He’ll have time to talk with her later, before she leaves for the evening.  He won't be able to forgive himself if he loses that chance.  

It's several hours later, approaching five o'clock, once the line has diminished to almost nothing.  Flip had noted on the flier that they close at five on Christmas Day, so the remaining visitors are here to pick up wrapped plates and go on their way.  Most of the other volunteers have also booked it by now, so he actually gets to have a moment alone with Rey--face to face.  

She tosses an empty tray of what was previously mashed potatoes into the sink, and shoots him an appraising look.  

Kaydel has already circulated the room, offering the lingering volunteers any leftovers they want to pack up and wishing them a Merry Christmas.  It's clear that her day has come to an end and she's anxious to head home to spend time with her own family. 

"Thank you all so much, for staying to clean up.  Not to rush anyone, but the snow is piling up pretty high out there.  Don't stay too long, okay?" Rey, Flip and the only other person left, a guy who had introduced himself as Poe, nod and smile. 

"I'll see you back at home, honey," Poe says, before giving Kaydel a quick kiss. "Be careful driving." 

And that's.....okay.  He didn't see that coming.  But it's all good. 

“Don’t tell me you’re back because of a sense of duty to those less fortunate than yourself," Rey mutters. 

Flip’s mouth falls open, a little shocked at how angry she sounds.  He’s honestly not quite sure how to answer the question. 

“Umm.  I dunno.  Yes? That’s part of the reason,” he admits.  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other day.” 

Rey’s eyebrows climb up, nearly into her hairline.  

“Really.  Which part?” 

He pauses, gives it a second of two before answering.   “The part where you told me I’d been an asshole to you when you were at the PD.” 

Her mouth falls open in shock. “I never used those words,” she corrects, and Flip shrugs.

“I know.  You didn’t have to.  I got the overall message.” 

She stares at him intently for what feels like a long time, but is in all likelihood just a few seconds, and then gives a terse nod. 

“Well,” she says, looking away from him before plunging her hands into a sinkful of soapy water.  

So… well.  That’s all he gets.  Flip shakes his head and goes to retrieve more of the dirty pans to bring over to the sink.  This can’t be the end of the conversation, there’s no way he’s about to apologize like this.  It’s not the right moment.  He’ll have to wait, just a little longer.  

Flip swallows hard, brings a sponge over to start wiping down the counters, now mostly cleared of cooking mess from earlier.  Rey seems lost in her own world as she busies herself with her task at hand. 

He takes a moment to glance out the window then.  It’s the first time he’s really paid attention to what was happening in the outside world since he’d arrived, despite a few murmurings from other volunteers who had already left and Kaydel’s warning.   The snowfall has turned into an outright blizzard.  

Fuck.  Getting home tonight is going to be an absolute nightmare, but at least he has the truck, and she’s gotten him through more than one snowstorm in the past.  It’ll be fine, he thinks.  It’ll be–

“I’m heading out, guys,” Poe calls, as he strides energetically towards the back door, coat and hat already in place.  “Don’t stay too long, it’s getting bad out there.  Stay safe.” With a wave, he pushes out through the emergency back door and disappears, leaving a whirl of snowflakes and cold air in his wake. 

Rey and Flip both look up, and she gives him a little grin that really shouldn’t bother Flip in any way, right? Because….because she’s not his, and she never will be.  She’s probably already got a boyfriend, and she wouldn’t want anything to do–

“Thought your boyfriend would be here tonight,” he blurts, the words tripping off his tongue before he has a proper chance to scale them back to sounding a little less snarky.

Her eyes snap to his, confusion first, then amusement. “You mean Finn? He’s hardly my boyfriend,” she corrects.  “No.  He’s my oldest mate.  Totally platonic, nothing romantic about it.” Rey tips her head to the side, regarding Flip in a way that has his knees feeling a little weak.  

“Oh,” is the best he can manage, along with a nod.  “He seemed pretty protective of you, so you know.  I just thought,” he shrugs.

She sets a freshly washed tray onto the counter to be dried.  “Thought... what? You been thinking about me, Detective? On your off time," she mocks. 

God help him, but Flip can’t control the warmth that floods his cheeks.  He knows he’s going pink.  It’s not something that happens often–he’s usually the one making other people blush.  It’s one of his favorite activities, if he’s honest.  Especially with pretty young girls.  Like Rey was, when they’d first met years earlier.  And well, she may not be as young now, but she’s definitely still attractive.  She's always been very attractive, he has to admit, though he still fights the thought.  

Beautiful, even.  

He's gonna have to at least admit that basic fact, and then--

But BOOM!! He shuts that thought down, far too fast to let it take root.  

Still, there are only two of them there, in the room.  So he decides to go for broke and admit the truth. 

“Maybe,” he says, with a shrug. “Maybe, I treated you the way I did back then, at the precinct because I l liked you, and I didn’t know how else to express it.”  He blinks twice, swallows down the lump growing in his throat because Flip Zimmerman is never this honest, never this authentic.  It had taken his partner–and now, best friend, Ron–to bring it up before, while they were working intel to bring down the small KKK cell.  Ron had essentially forced Flip to admit to the way he’d lied to himself in the past.  At best, it was a lack of insight, of self-awareness.  But Flip knows, now, a couple years later, that he’d been ignoring certain truths about himself.  It had brought him to do some research–about his own heritage, about the Holocaust, about his own family.  

So at the very least, Flip knows he’s not the same guy he was, four years ago, belittling an intern for no good reason.  

Rey wipes her hand on a dishtowel and shakes herself with all the wildness of a chained dog that was finally free of it’s bonds.  

“You,” she mumbles in disbelief.  “You liked me? Because in my book, the way you behaved back then doesn’t jive with liking me."

Flip scoffs, but he simply can’t find a worthwhile argument against her statement.  She’s a hundred percent right, even if he hadn’t been on the same page, hadn’t been mature enough to figure out that part of the equation back then.  

“Yeah, well.  I’m not the best at communicating my feelings,” he chuckles, but there’s an empty quality to it.  

Rey hums, nods.  “Is this your way of apologizing?” 

There’s no hesitation this time, no reason to.  He knows how he'd been.   “Yeah, yep.  Absolutely.” 

Her eyes soften as she looks up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “That means something, Flip.  Thank you.”  

The soft moment is shattered by a blaring siren, and they both startle: it's an Emergency Weather alert from a phone--hers, it turns out-announcing extreme weather conditions and recommending that people do NOT venture outdoors, if they can help it.

Flip looks at her as the broadcast continues, and Rey's eyes go wide.  She looks genuinely scared.  He doesn't like seeing the fear in her eyes. He doesn't like it at all.   

"Hey," he says softly, "we'll be okay." 

Chapter Text

Rey lets out a world-weary sigh, her lovely mouth turned down at the corners.   She’s crestfallen.  “Shit.  We’re not gonna make it out of here tonight, are we.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and Flip’s first inclination is to agree, but seeing that look on her face gives him pause.    He opens his mouth to say something, anything to soothe her obvious disappointment, but nothing comes out.  She sighs again, her shoulders slumping in defeat.  

“I have to call Finn.  At least let him know what’s going on so he doesn’t freak out.” 

Flip nods, dishrag clutched in one hand, feeling especially helpless and hating every second of it.  Feeling helpless is probably at the top of the list of things he hates.   The idea of not being able to help someone in distress is, he knows from personal experience, probably the main motivator for most people who become first responders.  It’s always been important to him, and it’s certainly one of the main reasons he joined the force.  And right now, there’s a person in need of care and assistance standing right in front of him, only it’s the emotional, not the physical, kind.  

He watches as she punches in the number, her lovely face crumpled up with concern. 

  Fuck. 

 Flip turns his attention away to look out the window.  Not surprisingly, there’s a thick carpet of white already building on the front step just outside the entrance.  From what he can see of the parking lot, his truck is the only vehicle there.  His buildup has already coated the roof and sides of it, the tires sunk in more than a few inches.  He swallows thickly. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it tonight.  So….I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.  Boxing day celebration.”  A mirthless little chuckle follows, and the sound sends a twinge through Flip’s chest.  It’s then that her eyes land on him. 

“I’ll be okay.  It’s warm–well, warm enough, and we’ve uh…got plenty of food.” Her tone is light, and Flip can see the struggle to keep from making her friend worry.  Her eyes flick over to his while she listens, Finn’s voice loud on the other end of the line.  

Flip nearly interrupts to offer an alternative, but thinks better of it..  He knows it would be a bad idea.  The snow’s coming down at an alarming rate and of course, there aren’t any plows out yet..  It’s Christmas night, after all, so at least there’ll be fewer people on the roads than on a typical weeknight in Colorado Springs.  

By the time she hangs up, having promised to check in with Finn in the morning, he’s decided to give it a shot. 

“I…..we might be able to make it, in my truck,” he offers, fully fully aware that it’s a risk but willing to take that chance for now.  Rey’s warm hazel eyes flicker to his, the slightest trace of doubt etched on her face.  “I can’t promise, though” he adds, hands held aloft, “but we could try.” 

He scratches the back of his neck, knowing how it sounds.  If Rey is truly despairing at the idea of being alone with him, then the possibility of being stranded with Flip in his truck, in the middle of a blizzard, is not going to be any more appealing than their current situation. 

Rey  lets out a heavy sigh, something vaguely mocking in it, but he’s not about to let that get to him.  She doesn’t say anything at first, just goes to stand and stare outside at the same blinding storm he'd been checking out just before.

“That doesn’t seem like the smartest idea,” she huffs, shaking her head.  “I think we’re just gonna have to buckle in here for the night.” 

He can’t find it in him to fight her on that.  It’s the right answer, the only thing that really makes sense.  The responsible choice.  Venturing out into the snow, even in his truck, would be super risky, and he doesn’t want to take the chance of putting Rey in danger.   Plus, he knows well enough that the plow drivers  and First Responders always tell people to stay off the streets in events like this.  

Flip forces a smile, looks up at her with hopeful eyes.  “I guess, uh…we’ll have to make Christmas dinner out of what we have here?” 

The smile he gets back is tentative at first, but it melts into something else.  

“Yeah, sure.  We can do that.”

*****

(Rey) 

The radio plays low as the two of them make plates for themselves to warm up in the microwave.  An endless stream of Christmas carols pour from the radio, some that make her super nostalgic and maybe a little teary eyed, but she wipes it away before Flip has the chance to notice. 

They finally talk then, really talk, and Rey finds herself genuinely surprised at the similarities in their childhood.  She  tells him about growing up in Jakku, a tiny town on the outskirts of Taos, New Mexico; being part of the foster system until she was finally adopted by Maz at age fourteen.  She learns that Flip’s parents were less involved in his life as he grew older.  His older sister, Jessica, was the golden child in his parents’ eyes.  By the time she was in college and Flip, a junior in high school, his parents had separated.  He was still living with his mom, but she had less and less time for him. 

They’re halfway through their meal when Rey remembers there are might be a couple bottles of wine stashed away, somewhere in the bowels of the kitchen.  Or maybe they’re in the store room? She’s not sure, but she knows they’re there.  They’d had enough spontaneous celebrations over the years, someone’s birthday or good-bye or whatever. 

“Aha!” She calls, triumphant, presenting Flip with a bottle of red wine, more smug than was probably warranted, but she really doesn’t care.  He gazes down at the label briefly before making a face.

“Is that the best we’ve got? Cheap merlot, really?” 

Rey scoffs.  “What did you expect? Top shelf bourbon? It’s better than nothing!” With a heavy sigh, she looks back at the label.  “And it’s not Merlot, it’s Malbec.”  

Flip makes a sound, something between a cough and a laugh, and it bothers her more than it should.  The thought that he’s laughing at her.  Shit.

And they were just making some headway.  

“Honestly, I wouldn’t know the difference,” he sighs. “M’ not much of a wine guy, in case you couldn’t guess.”  He gestures at himself, and her eyes take in the red and black flannel, the weathered jeans and beat-to-shit workboots.  

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a whole prescribed persona that went along with your choice of apparel.” Rey huffs, shaking her head.  “Look.  Are you gonna have a drink with me, or what?” 

The corners of his full mouth twitch upwards.  “Yeah.  Sure, I guess.  Lay it on me, rookie.”

It’s the same nickname he’d bestowed on her back when she was a mere clerk in the records room, and it irks her a bit, but she shakes it off.  This is not the time to focus on negative things.  It’s Christmas.  She wants to have a little fun.  

“No,” he says simply. “I just…..I’m not nearly as complicated or as interesting as all of that.  I-” he huffs, a broken laugh maybe as he finally lets his gaze drop away. “I’m a lot easier to figure out than you are.” 

Rey’s mouth drops open at that, but no words come out.  It’s a surprisingly honest statement, one that reflects Flip’s own vulnerability, and she’s….she’s not expecting that.  Not at all.  It takes her a few seconds to process, and she just watches him curiously, realizing that for all her assumptions, she really doesn’t know this man.   She’d probably made a lot of wrong decisions.

****************

(Flip)

“So how come you never hit on me, then? If you liked me as much as you say.” 

Flip freezes, one hand grasping the plastic cup of wine, midway on its journey to his mouth.  They’ve just about killed the bottle, each two glasses in, but there’s no doubt that  his tolerance is way higher than hers.  It’s obvious.  He’s twice her size, for one, not to mention years older.  

He barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “What?” because it feels like a trap, really.  How are they moving from a tenuous friendship to suddenly talking about flirtation?

Flip drains the remnants of his cup and meets her eyes again, the hesitation showing through. 

“I just,” Rey starts.  She shrugs after a moment and takes another sip from her own glass. 

“Well, I’m not sure that’s a real question, but–”

“Of course, it’s real! What do y–” 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.  Rey…” It comes out sharp, like a snarl, and she drops her gaze, looking like she wants to retract, but he keeps going.  Needs to get the words out.  

“Look.  I was your superior back then.  You were just a kid.  It would have been completely unethical and creepy, to flat out hit on you.” 

Rey’s throat bobs on a swallow and she nods.  “Yeah,” she says, quieter, after a moment. “I know.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, but….” she breaks off, and her eyes drop to the floor.  He gets it, then.  Some of the other guys in the station had hit on her, they must have.  

"Lemme guess," he says lowly. "Landers?" 

Rey nods, her mouth twisting up in displeasure.  "Yeah. But he wasn't the only one."  

Flip sucks in a deep breath, eyes locked on her.  "For what it's worth, that guy was shipped out shortly after you left.  Harassment charges, and other things. I'm just sorry it took so long." 

He waits gives her a chance to say more, because by her expression, the way she keeps opening and closing her mouth, he can tell she has more to say, but…it never comes.

"Anyway," Flip says, with a sigh. "I just didn’t know how to handle it.  You know.  Liking you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rey ready to speak, and his hand goes up to freeze the impulse.  “Just-just gimme a second,” he says, though it’s more of a plea. 

She nods in silent accord and Flip continues. 

“You were just so…well, everything that I’d ever wanted.  You were smart, and independent.  And feisty,” he adds, with a curl of his lips that nearly makes her smile.

And so damn beautiful, but he keeps that part to himself.

"But you were so young, and it just...wouldn't have been right."

She watches him, hazel eyes somehow brighter than normal in the dim room, and nods. 

“I get it.  I um….I guess I was really wrong about you, Flip.” 

He’s relieved, and a little stunned, to finally hear those words from her lips.  Flip holds her gaze for a long moment, unable to hold back the smile that creeps up in response to hers.  

“Well,” he concedes.  “Yeah. Maybe, a little.” 

They’re still talking as the cold from outside begins to seep inside, making Rey shiver.  The chatter between them has waned, but it still feels surprisingly natural, easy.  Much more comfortable than he would have expected, and he suspects she feels the same, if the soft smiles and warm eyes she flashes him are anything to go by. 

They wrangle several blankets and one old, threadbare clean sheet (at least he hopes it’s clean!) to set up a makeshift bed on the floor of the main room.  Luckily, there are a couple of pillows, cluttered in a corner of the same closet where Rey finds the blankets and sheets.  The radio is still on, the steady stream of music interrupted now and then by weather updates.  The DJ is saying something about the snow continuing into the early morning hours, and then starting to dissipate.  Flip misses most of it, because he’s too comfortable now.  It’s all so unexpected, such a wild twist of fate, that he’d end up in this exact place, at this exact time…..with Rey.

She tells him, in great detail, about her childhood, growing up outside of London and being part of the foster care system.  How she’d met and bonded with Finn there, and that it was the one thing that helped keep her going.  When she’s done, she looks up at him with those intoxicating, hazel eyes. 

“You have to share something with me now, something really personal.  It’s only fair.” 

Flip nods slowly.  She’s got a point. So he tells her about the investigation with Ron, how the whole experience had helped him to come to terms with his own Jewish heritage, something he’d more or less ignored for way too long.  It’s not something he’s talked about with many people, outside of his own family, and Ron himself, of course.  When he’s done accounting the whole thing to Rey, he feels a little vulnerable, not a feeling he’s felt often.  He’s not a big fan. 

Still, Rey’s looking up at him through her lashes like it means something to her. Like it matters, and that’s….honestly, that huge.

“Thanks for sharing that with me, Flip,” she murmurs.  “That means a lot.” 

And just like that, he finds himself curled up against her on their makeshift bed, the big spoon to her little one. All conversation has fallen off, even if the radio is still on.   The only light in the room comes from the Christmas lights gleaming from the tree.  No one's bothered to turn of the radio, though.  Flip had guessed it was a source of comfort for Rey, and it was on a  low volume, so he wasn’t about to complain for no reason.  Finally, allowing himself to settle into the warmth from her body, the perfect way her body fits, cradled into his….he drifts off into sound bliss.

(Rey) 

It’s hard to tell what time it is when she wakes.  She typically sleeps through the night, but thinking about that becomes fuzzy and pointless, the moment she registers the warm, solid weight of a body snuggled up tightly against her back.  It takes a few beats for her to realize where she is.  She’s not at home.  She’s….oh….? It’s….

Oh.

She’s at Harvest.  In the common room, on the floor, spread out on a scratchy sheet and threadbare blanket, the two things offering only dubious protection against the myriad of germs teeming in the worn-in carpeting.  The room is cold, so she’s thankful for the weathered covering her, even more so for the warmth emanating from the body spooning hers.  Her mind ticks slowly as bits and pieces of the previous night come flooding back.

She knows the body pressed tightly against hers belongs to one Flip Zimmerman, her former coworker/enemy/crush.  Rey lets her eyes fall shut again, doing her best not to move as heat flares in her belly.   The way he’d spoken to her, low and sweet, so unlike the man she’d remembered from years ago.  How he’d listened, been so open with her.  It was almost like meeting someone for the first time, someone she genuinely liked, and not….being stranded at a soup kitchen in the middle of a snowstorm.  On Christmas night, no less. 

The human furnace behind her shifts suddenly, pulling away, and oh. She misses him instantly. 

“Oh, fuck,” Flip grumbles. “Sor-sorry.” 

Rey swallows thickly, takes a deep breath as she makes a decision.  She knows exactly why Flip is apologizing. 

“Don’t be.  It’s-it’s okay,” she manages, before edging herself back into him. He sucks in a little gasp in surprise as she grinds her hips slowly against his hardness. “It’s cold,” she reasons.  “You’re like a fucking furnace.”

Flip chuckles.  “Yeah, I’ve been told.” 

“Kiss me,” she gasps.

He stills for a moment.  Shit, she shouldn't have said anything.  But before she can retract it, he's stroking her shoulder gently. 

"You sure?"

"Yes. Please." 

The words are barely out of her mouth before warm lips meet hers in greeting.  It’s tentative, at first, quickly growing heated as Rey warms to the realization that she’s finally getting what she’s wanted for so long, even if she’d never admitted it.  Not to Flip, not to herself.  Now, she can, and it feels so freeing. 

Flip moves carefully above her, clearly trying to spare her from the full burden of his weight on top of her.  It’s sweet and full of care, and absolutely not something she would have expected of him, if you’d asked her a week ago.  But right now, she doesn’t want gentle: she wants rough.

More than that, she wants to be the one in control. 

Rey catches his lower lip in her teeth and tugs, eliciting a low moan from the man above her.  

“Fuck,” he mutters, glancing down at her with something akin to awe, his dark eyes nearly black, hair wild, cheeks flushed.   “You’re a wild little thing, aren't ya?" 

She cocks a brow at him, flashing a feral grin. “Oh, you have no idea, Detective.”

A dimple flashes in the corner of his jaw, and it’s way too cute to be acceptable.  Here she is, lying half pinned by this gorgeous mountain of a man, someone she always thought would use his power and strength to take advantage, and yet he’s….

Patient.  Gentle.  Solicitous, even.   It’s a lot to process. 

She kisses him again, locking her arms around his broad shoulders and rocking her hips, until they’re rocking together. Flip breaks the kiss this time. Rey wants to flip their positions, but she doesn’t quite have the strength, so she ends up wriggling beneath him while Flip laughs mockingly.  

“That right?” he teases, sweeping his thumb along her lower lip until her tongue snakes out to taste it  “I’ll ask you again, then,  What do you want?”

Rey huffs, cocks her head like she’s thinking about it, before she finally gives him an answer. 

“I wanna be on top,” she says.  

He smirks, before literally flipping their positions so that she is indeed the one on top.  The display of strength and agility is effortless, and so smooth, she has to bite back on a moan.  

Flip grins up at her from his place on the mattress where she’d been ten seconds before, 

“Ask and you shall receive, sweet Rey,” he grins.  

“Oh.  I see, are you always this easy?”

Flip’s grin goes wider, wolfish.  “Nope.  But I don't mind being pinned by a pretty girl, every now and then."

Rey huffs, grinding her hips down over where he's rock hard beneath her.  

Flip’s huge dark eyes go even wider, and she can’t help but smirk a little at the reaction.  His throat bobs, and she barely restrains herself from tracing the movement with her fingers.  

“You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs, and she wants to burrow into his body to drink it down.  “Can I….” his thumb traces along her torso, closer and closer to her nipple, but he stops.

“Yeah,” she confirms.  “Do it.”

Flip wastes no time, ducking his head to catch one of her nipples, teasing a first with gentle licks and kisses before he wraps those sinfully plush lips around it.  She shakes and moans, throwing her head back at the pleasure surging through her.  Flip pulls off with a wet pop and Rey glares down at him.

“You like that, huh?” he teases, whiskey-brown eyes sparkling.  

“Shit, yeah.”  Rey’s breathless, lashes fluttering. “Don’t stop.” 

Flip smirks  up at her before he takes the other nipple between his teeth, worrying it gently between his teeth.   She feels the rumble low in his chest, a sound of a predator taking control, and it makes her whine. 

“Fuck.” 

He snakes a hand to the waistband of her leggings and tugs.  “Take these off,” he demands.  “Unless you want me to?’

Rey’s response is little more than a whimper, but she can’t bring herself to give a shit.  

“Yeah,” she grits out. “You can do it.”

She lifts her hips to ease his way, and Flip wastes no time, dragging the fabric down to expose her in nothing but a pair of lilac boyshorts.  The whole time, his eyes are on her, fixed on that spot between her legs.  Rey already knows she’s wet, has been since she woke up and felt him pressed against her.  

Flip’s mouth curls again, in that way he has.  She hates it, but okay, no.  She likes it, if she’s honest.  Likes it a lot.   He drags the legging down and looks up from between her legs with a wolfish grin.  

“Well, well.  Wet for me already, hmm?” 

Rey rolls her eyes, but it’s no good.  He can see right through her,  There’s no point in pretending.  

“Just….just do whatever you’re gonna–ahh” She breaks off at the feeling of his tongue swiping up along her most private, sensitive spot.  A low rumble comes from his throat.  

“Mmm….sweet.  Knew you would be,” he purrs.

Rey’s eyes roll back in her head as he continues, talented tongue teasing as she writhes and gasps through his ministrations, the pressure building quickly until she comes.  She’s letting out these little breathy moans that she tells herself aren’t her, because she’s never sounded that way before.  Not with any other guy she’s ever been with.  

“Fuck,” she moans.  “Shit, Flip, I’m gonna come.”   

With a little growl in his throat, he intensifies his efforts until she’s doing just that.  Rey shudders and shakes while he continues to play with her.  All the way to the point of overstimulation, something she’s not experienced much before, not with any of the guys she’s been with, but when she calls: “Stop…please, no more,” he relents, moving up to kiss her.  Rey’s boneless, leaning into the feeling of pure pleasure surging through her as their mouths meet. 

He pulls back to give her a grin.  “You taste so good, babygirl.

Rey slumps back on the floor, weak and pleasure drunk.  It takes her a moment or two, before she looks up to catch Flip’s smile.  He looks less cocky than she would have expected. 

“Was that okay?” 

Rey huffs before grabbing his hand and effectively pulling him down until they’re kissing soundly. 

“Yeah,” she says, when she’s able to speak.  “That was fucking amazing.  I just need a minute and I’ll return the favor." 

He’s already fiddling with the band of his boxers as he stares up at her, eyes black in the dim room.  

“I mean, I’d really like to fuck you, but I don’t have any condoms.” 

She’s gnawing on her lip as she ponders. “Bummer,” she says.

 “I wanna come on your tits.  That okay?” 

Rey murmurs her agreement as she reaches to cup him through his boxers.  Flip hisses at the feeling  He guides her hand beneath the band, and then they’re both gripping him, his weight heavy and hot in her palm.  His eyes drop closed as their begin to move in tandem.  

He opens them to ask her to spit and then they resume, the glide eased by her saliva. 

“Fuck yeah,” Flip groans.  And then he’s fucking his fist, hard and fast.  Rey pulls off to watch him, because shit, he’s beautiful, and it’s hot, it’s so hot.  She pulls her shirt all the way up again, exposing her small breasts to make it easier for him to aim.  He comes with a shudder and a long moan, painting strips of white across her torso.  

They end up sprawled in a heap, Flip on his back in only his boxers as Rey drapes herself over him in nothing but her boyshorts.  He tugs the blankets over them and nuzzles into her neck.  

“That was….unexpected,” she says quietly. 

“But in a good way though, right?” There’s a twinge of vulnerability in his voice and she leans closer to kiss him again.  

Rey smiles and closes her eyes.  “Mmhmm.  A very good way.  Ten/ten, would do it again.” 

He chuckles against her jaw and bites her lightly.  “Let’s sleep a little more.  You’re gonna need your strength for later, once we get home.” 

Rey’s not sure which home he means, his or hers, but that’s okay for now.  She can wait.