dominique luca oneshots

ties that bind [ ❧, ❦ ]

The evening brings with it a warm breeze, one that's strong enough to pull wisps of hair out from your updo and across your face. You brush them back absentmindedly as you untie the seating cards from the chairs, the delicate ribbons slipping through your fingers as the plaque cards sway and blow in the breeze.

Though the ceremony is already over, you don't want to leave behind too much of a mess for the waitstaff. You and the team agreed to hang back and help tidy up so that Deacon and Annie could enjoy their night, which you had no problem with - the guys had fanned out to go stack the chairs, Chris having left to go wrangle the kids. That left you to go and remove the cards and the isle decorations, the small bouquets nestled under your arm while the cards were clenched tightly in your fist as they threatened to blow away in the breeze.

You made your way through the rows methodically, the sounds of the party entering full swing inside bringing a smile to your face. It was exactly what everyone needed to rewind after these last few weeks. That's the thought crossing your mind when you move to the next chair, only to correct yourself. Everyone wasn't here - at least, not everyone who mattered.

Sadness pulls at your heart along with a pang of guilt as you work to unknot the card with Street's name on it. You really had hoped that he'd show, despite everything, but you couldn't blame him. You really couldn't.

Anger courses though you, quick as a flash. Anger at him, at Hondo, at his selfish wreck of a mother, at everything - everything that had taken that kid from you, that brash, foolish rookie that had weaselled his way into your hearts in a way none of you could've predicted.

Your fist clenches, the card crumbling in your grip. You squeeze so hard that your nails dig sharply into your palm but the discomfort is the last thing on your mind - you're too concerned with trying to ward off those notions of guilt and sympathy and other emotions you don't have names for to notice.

A strong hand on your shoulder is what pulls you from your thoughts. It doesn't take long for you to realise who it belongs to - he brings with him a loud, booming laugh and a scent of a very familiar cologne, the one you'd bought for him all those months ago and which now made you feel calmer than anything else.

"Baby, baby, hey- ", Luca rambles, his hand slipping from your shoulder down to your elbow as he begins to tug you away with him. "Come and see this, you're not gonna believe it!"

It takes him a second, but his eyes eventually drop from your face down to your hands.

"C'mon, don't worry about this crap", he says, scooping the decorations out of your hands and setting them down on a nearby chair, "You need to see this!"

The giddy smile on his face doesn't falter as he takes the name cards from your hands, nor when he tuts lightly at you for not loosening your grip on the last one. It's only when he begins to pry your fingers off of it and his eyes skim across the wrinkled text that his face begins to drop.

He throws down the rest of the cards and they slide off the seats and onto the grass, but neither of you move to get them.

"What happened here?" His voice is quieter now, fingers smoothing out the paper as he stares down at it with a look you can't quite decipher.

"Said I'd take down the decorations." Your voice is just as soft. "Got to his one, and I just..."

You trail off, not knowing what else to say. But it's Luca, your Luca - you don't need to say anything else.

He tsks, but not in a patronising way. More in the 'oh, c'mere' way you're so accustomed to - the one that has him pulling you in against him, and sitting down on the empty rows while he runs your back soothingly.

"You good, baby?"

You nod, and you really mean it. You're no fool, you're far from it - you know that Street brought this upon himself. The lying, the dodging Hondo and putting the team at jeopardy, the defiance - all of it was leading him towards an inevitability that could be seen from miles away.

That knowledge didn't make it any easier to swallow, though.

"I know it had to happen", you say. "I know that he lied and he put us in the field a man down, I know that - but Christ, Luca. He's a kid. A kid looking out for his mom, his only blood. Wouldn't we all do the same thing in his place?"

Luca nods as you talk. Rubbing soothing circles up and down your back, he takes in what you're saying - the truth of it stinging a little more than he'd like to admit.

Shaking your head, you throw your clasped hands down in your lap. Luca leans in, pressing a commiseratory press to your cheek that you don't have the heart to lean away from. He doesn't move away, choosing instead to nuzzle in close to your ear as he closes his eyes and shakes his head.

He sighs, pulling away and planting his hands on his knees. "I know, I do. And after all he did for us- "

"Wow, you're really gonna go and give him credit for all that?" You take on a joking tone, elbowing him gently as you begin to laugh. He follows suit, shaking his head at you as he throws his arm around your waist and tugs you in.

"Well in fairness, if he hadn't kicked me out on my ass then I wouldn'tve have turned up on your doorstep that night, now would I?" He smiles, squeezing your hip affectionately as you roll your eyes and kiss the corner of his mouth teasingly.

"No, maybe not", you hum. "But I don't think that would've stopped us, in the end."

"Nah, I don't think so either." He kisses the crown of your head, a hand stroking idly at the goosebumps beginning to adorn your bare arm.

The silence that falls between you is a comfortable one, though it was borne of unease. The sounds from the party have grown louder throughout your conversations, the noise now filling the small garden and echoing off every wall.

"He's a good kid, Luca." There's a sadness in your voice when you speak. "A good kid, and a hell of a cop."

Luca hums in agreement.

"Don't know why I got so attached to him. Guess he just... reminded me of someone." Yeah, you. You don't need Luca to reply for you to know the answer. Something about the way he'd walked in that first first morning, head full of pride and a heart full of sorrows that'd made you think of your first days in SWAT. Just another headstrong rookie looking to prove yourself at any cost.

It'd made it all too easy to sympathise with Street in those early days. All too easy to pull him up on stupid mistakes, to offer your help where he needed it, to give him a refuge when he finally accepted.

"I'm worried." For him, for the team, for everyone. Though you don't say it, Luca knows what you mean.

"Street's still family, whether he knows it or not." Though Luca's voice is steady, there's a waver in it that you're not used to hearing. "Families are meant to be together. He'll find his way back to us in the end, I know he will."

"And if he doesn't?" You can suppress the break in your voice until it's too late, and by then Luca is already looking at you with worried eyes and tugs you forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

"That just means it's not the end yet, baby."