Hosie One Shots

The Move

Josie leaned against the kitchen counter, the faint scent of antiseptic still clinging to her scrubs from the hospital. The twins had gone down easier than usual, their small bodies tangled in blankets upstairs, but the silence pressed in now. She checked her phone again, thumb hovering over Hope's name.

No new messages. Hope's shift should have ended an hour ago, yet the cruiser sat empty in the driveway when Josie had pulled in.

Outside, the streetlight flickered against the rain-slicked pavement. Josie remembered the early days, when Hope first pinned on the badge and they both laughed about balancing her patrols with Josie's rounds.

Marriage and the kids had changed the rhythm, not the pull between them. Tonight felt different, though, heavier, like the weight of an unspoken case Hope carried home in her eyes.

The phone buzzed once on the counter. Josie reached for it, heart tightening at the unknown number lighting the screen.

Josie answered the call with a quick swipe, her voice steady despite the knot forming in her stomach. "Hello?" Static crackled on the line before a clipped male voice identified itself as dispatch from the station.

Hope had been involved in a pursuit that went sideways on the south side, the cruiser sideswiped during a chase after a suspect tied to a string of burglaries. She was unharmed but stuck at the scene giving statements, and the officer on the line passed along her request for Josie to stay put rather than head out looking.

The call ended abruptly, leaving Josie staring at the dark screen as rain tapped harder against the windows. She set the phone down and exhaled, the familiar mix of relief and frustration settling in.

Marriage to a cop meant these interruptions, the late nights that stretched into the kind of worry she tried not to voice when the twins asked why Mommy Hope missed bedtime again. Josie moved to the fridge, pulling out ingredients for a quick meal she could reheat whenever Hope walked through the door.

Her mind drifted to the early years, back when Hope's badge was new and their nights ended tangled together without the weight of cases or kids pulling them in different directions.

The front door clicked open just as she turned on the stove, and there was Hope, uniform damp from the rain, eyes tired but sharp as she crossed the kitchen and pulled Josie into a brief, solid kiss that tasted like the coffee she'd been running on for hours.

Hope pulled back from the kiss but kept her hands on Josie's waist, the damp fabric of her uniform brushing against Josie's scrubs.

"Dispatch already called," she said, voice low. "Figured you'd be waiting up." Josie nodded, turning the stove down to a simmer as the smell of onions filled the kitchen. Hope leaned against the counter, running a hand through her wet hair.

"It was on the south side again. Same crew we've been tracking for those burglaries. This time they tried to snatch a kid from a playground after dark. The suspect grabbed the boy right off the swings, but the mother fought back and flagged us down. I went after him on foot when the cruiser got sideswiped. He ditched the kid in an alley to run, but we got him cuffed before he cleared the block."

Josie set the spoon down, her fingers tightening on the edge of the counter. The image of a stranger's hands on a child flashed through her mind, twisting into the faces of their own twins upstairs. She pictured small bodies yanked from their beds, the quiet house suddenly empty, and her breath caught.

"A kid," she said, the words flat. "How old?" Hope shook her head. "Eight, maybe. Scared out of his mind but not hurt. We got him back to his mom before the ambulance even arrived." Josie turned fully, arms crossed over her chest.