ONE-SHOTS

Let's Start a Fire [Lou x Debbie]

Let's Start a Fire
by hope_s

Summary:
Debbie can't quite believe that today is real. She likes plans and predictability, and this – marrying Lou, marrying anyone at all – has definitely not been in her plans, not for most of her life anyway. It has been – it is – the happiest surprise of her life – to know that she is choosing Lou and that Lou is choosing her.

In a theoretical and romantic way, Debbie wants the whole world to know how much she loves Lou, but her stomach knots at the thought of actually speaking all of what she feels to a room full of people. Cold criminal masterminds aren't cut out for these emotions, so she'll tell Lou in private first, whisper all the things she's afraid she'll never be able to say because - after all - Lou is the only one who really needs to hear them...

Debbie knew that Lou loved the bagels from the deli three blocks from the loft. She also knew that – while the deli opened at 6 am – Lou was seldom awake before 9 am, and therefore missed out on some of the more coveted varieties. Brooklyn was quiet on Saturday mornings – as quiet as it ever was – and Debbie savored it. Today, the weather was foggy, and she passed like a shadow along the empty streets. Her tan Burberry trench-coat snapped around her calves as she walked, and her block heels tapped a muffled rhythm along the concrete.

It was still a little early, so Debbie took a meandering route and stopped by the cemetery. The gates had just been opened, and in the fog, the cemetery took on a very literally ghostly appearance. The mausoleum was empty, and though she hadn't really expected anyone, Debbie still felt a pang of disappointment. She hadn't brought her usual martini, nor any flowers, with her today. The stones were cold, and Debbie knew she wouldn't stay long. Today of all days, Debbie had thought that maybe, maybe there would be something.

"I'm getting married today," she said after a few minutes of silence. The words bounced back to her off of Danny's name. "I hope you show up." She sighed and reached out to run a finger lightly over Danny's name. "Lou and I brought you an invitation a while back, but it's been gone for months now, and I know it was probably Reuben that took it, but still..." Debbie trailed off with a shrug. "I hope you show up," she repeated more quietly this time, almost to herself. "And if not..." Her voice was stronger again, and she fixed the name on the wall with a glare. "...well, you better be in there, because if you're not, I'm pretty sure my wife..." She emphasized the word proudly. "...will kick your ass."

Debbie turned on her heel and left the mausoleum without another word, adjusting the strap on Danny's watch around her wrist as she went. She couldn't quite believe that today was real. Debbie liked plans and predictability, and this – marrying Lou, marrying anyone at all – had definitely not been in her plans, not for most of her life anyway. It had been – it was – the happiest surprise of her life – to know that she was choosing Lou and that Lou was choosing her. It took her aback every time she thought about it, and Debbie's pace along the sidewalk quickened. It was just past 6 am now, and she wanted to get her bagels and get home to Lou. Lou. She wondered how many times she would walk this route in the coming years and decades. It made her shiver slightly to think about it. We get to do this for the rest of our lives, Lou had said the night that Debbie had proposed as she tugged Debbie into their bedroom. We don't need rings or a marriage license to do this for the rest of our lives, Debbie had pointed out with a smirk, but Lou had silenced her with a finger to her lips. Forever, Jailbird, Lou had insisted softly and firmly. Forever. Even Debbie couldn't think of a sarcastic response to that.

The rest of our lives. Debbie tried to imagine what that would look like. She was good at imagining things – she had planned the entire Met Job in her head, for God's sake, and she was working on a Honeymoon Heist idea now. Still, she wasn't a prophet. She couldn't imagine little things like what they would have for dinner next Thursday, or what flavor of ice cream she would choose on her upcoming birthday (or next year, or the year after that). She wasn't even sure which scent of perfume she would choose for Lou's birthday in less than two weeks. The little things – the things that were hers and Lou's alone, that didn't belong to a job or to the personas they showed to the world – those things would fill the remaining decades of their lives, and Debbie couldn't foresee them. To her lasting amazement, she found that she didn't want to foresee them, though sometimes it was fun to imagine herself and Lou growing old together, conning the world to their final breaths. Before that though, there was the actual business of the wedding to get through, and Debbie couldn't deny the anxious excitement that shot through her at the thought of it.