FLYNN || POLICE OFFICER HUSBAND

Monday mornings had never been particularly kind to Flynn Sheffield.

By the time the Sacramento streets had begun filling with commuters, he had already been awake for hours, showered, dressed, and running on the kind of sleep deprivation he had long since stopped admitting was a problem. His patrol uniform was neat despite the early hour, every piece of equipment sitting exactly where it belonged. His radio rested against his vest, the familiar weight of his duty belt at his waist, and his hands remained steady on the steering wheel as he guided the patrol cruiser through the outer edges of downtown Sacramento.

Gina sat in the passenger seat. Unfortunately, Flynn had learned that being partnered with her rarely meant a quiet shift.

She had been making little comments since the beginning of their patrol, each one delivered with an unmistakably playful edge. Every so often, she glanced over at him with a look that lingered just a second longer than necessary, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth whenever he failed to react.

“You know,” Gina remarked casually, leaning back in her seat, “you could smile once in a while. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Flynn kept his eyes on the road. “I smile.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

He gave her a brief sideways glance before returning his attention to the traffic ahead. “Usually when I’m off duty.”

Gina laughed softly. “So I just have to catch you after your shift?”

“You have to catch me doing paperwork after my shift.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“It isn’t.”

His answer was so dry and matter-of-fact that Gina laughed again.

Flynn simply shook his head, pretending not to notice the way she continued watching him. He had become very good at ignoring things he didn’t want to encourage. Gina’s flirting was one of them. He wasn’t interested, and he had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. His marriage was his marriage. His work was his work. He intended to keep it that way.

The patrol cruiser continued down one of the larger streets skirting the outer downtown area. Flynn’s attention moved methodically between intersections, traffic, pedestrians, and the vehicles ahead. Then he saw it; a car traveling considerably faster than the surrounding traffic.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed something painfully familiar about it. Flynn straightened in his seat when he finally recognized it. He knew it far better than he wanted to know the vehicle of someone he was about to pull over.

He exhaled slowly through his nose “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He activated the patrol lights and maneuvered the cruiser behind the speeding vehicle.

Flynn pulled the cruiser to the side behind the car and brought it to a stop. He reached for his radio, briefly communicating the traffic stop before settling back in his seat.

Then he looked toward Gina “You wait here.” he said in a tone that said he wouldn't take no for an answer before stepping out of the cruiser.

The morning air was cool against his face as he approached the stopped vehicle, his expression professional despite the faint exasperation already settling behind his eyes. He stopped beside the driver’s window and waited until it came down.

The moment he saw his wife’s face behind the wheel, the sternness in his expression softened by the smallest degree.

Of all the people he could have pulled over on a Monday morning, it had to be her.

Flynn leaned his elbows lazily against the open window, his tall frame relaxing slightly as he looked into the car.

“Well, good morning to you, Mrs. Sheffield.”There was a faint trace of amusement in his voice now. “What are our reasons for speeding today?”

His tone remained calm and matter-of-fact, but there was something almost exhausted about the way he said it. He had spent years dealing with traffic violations, reckless drivers, and every imaginable excuse from strangers.

Somehow, pulling over his own wife felt considerably more complicated. Flynn sighed quietly and straightened a little.

“Before you try anything, I can’t just let you off because we’re married.” He shook his head, already anticipating the situation becoming more difficult than it needed to be. “I stopped you because you were going over the limit, and I’m required to deal with it properly.”

He reached toward the equipment on his belt, maintaining the same professional composure.“I have to write you a ticket, babe. That’s how this works.”

After a small pause, he raised his eyebrow and his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smirk.

“And don’t let me catch you breaking traffic laws again,” Flynn leaned slightly closer to the window, lowering his voice just enough to give the warning a teasing undertone. “Because next time, I’m going to have to discipline you another way.”

The faint amusement disappeared almost immediately afterward. “No, seriously though, why would you speed, babe?” His expression softened as he looked into the car, the stern police officer giving way to the concerned husband underneath.

He waited for an explanation, one hand resting against the edge of the window while the distant sound of Sacramento traffic carried on around them.

It was exactly 9:57p.m. when Flynn Sheffield finally turned onto the familiar street leading toward home.

The drive had been pleasantly uneventful. No calls, no emergencies, no unexpected overtime stretching his shift into the early hours of the morning. His desk at the station had been left exactly as he preferred it; clean, organized, everything put back in its proper place before he’d finally allowed himself to leave.

He hadn’t even worked much overtime tonight. Technically, he could have been home considerably earlier. Unfortunately, Sgt. Rivera had other ideas. The older sergeant had insisted on grabbing a beer after their shifts ended, and Flynn had known better than to argue.

Now, though, he was more than ready to be home. His hand rested loosely on the steering wheel as the familiar neighborhood passed outside the windows and the exhaustion he’d been carrying all day felt a little lighter simply knowing that he was only minutes away. He couldn’t wait to see his wife. After a long day surrounded by radios, paperwork, patrol calls, and people demanding pieces of his attention, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Home was where he could finally stop being Officer Sheffield. He could just be Flynn.

When he pulled into the driveway, he shut off the engine and sat there for a brief moment, letting the quiet settle around him then he stepped out, grabbed his things, and made his way inside.

The moment the front door opened behind him, something in his posture changed. His shoulders immediately relaxed, it was almost instinctive.

The house was quiet and familiar, filled with the comfortable sense of being somewhere that belonged to him. Flynn closed the door behind himself and let out a slow breath, already feeling some of the tension from his shift slipping away.

His boots came off first. He nudged them neatly into place, because even exhausted Flynn apparently couldn’t resist keeping things organized. His duty belt followed, carefully removed and set aside on the table where it wouldn’t be in the way.

Then, already reaching for the buttons of his uniform shirt, he made his way farther into the house... and there she was.

His tired expression softened immediately. Flynn paused for just a second as he looked toward the couch, his eyes lingering affectionately on his wife. She wasn’t doing anything extraordinary, she was simply there, lounging comfortably at home, exactly where he wanted her to be and somehow, that was enough to make his entire day feel better.

God, she’s so pretty.

He found himself wondering, not for the first time, how he’d managed to get so lucky. Five years into their marriage and he could still look at her and feel that quiet little warmth settle somewhere behind his ribs.

He continued toward the couch, finishing another button of his uniform as he went. Rather than walking around to the front, Flynn leaned comfortably over the back of the couch. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of hers, lingering for a moment before pulling back just enough to speak.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was quiet and tired, carrying the unmistakable warmth he reserved for her. He rested his forearms along the back of the couch, looking at her with sleepy affection.

“I’m sorry I’m so late.” A small, apologetic smile appeared on his face. “Rivera insisted on getting a beer after work. Saying no would’ve meant getting treated like a rookie again for two weeks straight.” He gave a tired little huff of amusement, shaking his head. “And I really wasn’t in the mood to spend the next fourteen days being ordered around like I just graduated from the academy.”

His fingers absently fiddled with one of the remaining buttons of his uniform shirt before he finally sighed and began working it open properly. Then his expression softened again. “But I’m home now.” There was something almost content in the way he said it.

Flynn leaned down once more, giving her another gentle kiss on the top of her head before straightening. “Do you want me to cook something up for us?” He glanced toward the kitchen, then back toward her, his tired eyes warm. “I can make us something easy. You can pick what you want.”

After a day spent taking care of everyone else, cooking dinner for his wife somehow didn’t feel like another responsibility. It felt like exactly where he wanted to be.

Flynn sat on the couch with his elbows resting heavily against his knees, his hands loosely clasped together as he stared at the floor. His expression was visibly frustrated.

Not angry in the explosive sense, Flynn rarely was. His anger tended to sit beneath the surface, contained behind a tight jaw, furrowed brows, and the occasional slow breath through his nose as he tried desperately to keep himself from saying something he would regret.

Tonight, though, keeping it contained was becoming increasingly difficult.

He’d come home much later than usual and somehow, after everything that had happened during his shift, the worst part of his night had been walking through the front door and realizing his wife was angry with him.

The shift today itself had been intense. Flynn and Gina had managed to apprehend and arrest two robbers earlier that evening. It had been messy, fast, and exhausting. During the incident, Gina had sustained a minor injury.

Nothing life-threatening. Nothing remotely close to an emergency, but she still was his work partner and Flynn had done what he believed any decent partner should do.

After the arrests were handled, he had accompanied Gina to the hospital. He’d stayed there until the doctors had confirmed she was fine, until the injury had been treated and there was no reason for him to worry about her being in any further danger.

A broken finger. That was all. To Flynn, there had never been anything questionable about it.

He hadn’t gone because he wanted to spend time with Gina. He hadn’t gone because he cared for her in any way beyond professional responsibility. He had gone because she’d been injured during a situation they had handled together, and making sure his work partner was okay had seemed like the most obvious thing in the world.

He’d thought nothing of it, so when he’d finally gotten home, exhausted from the long shift, he told his wife what happened almost immediately.

Finnley hadn’t hidden anything, he simply explained what had happened, mentioned Gina’s injury, and told her he’d stayed at the hospital until she was cleared. He’d expected it to be nothing more than another story from work.

Instead, he was met with silence, short answers and a coldness that Flynn had noticed almost immediately but hadn’t understood. At first, he’d tried to ignore it, then he asked what was wrong.

That had been the beginning of the argument and it escalated quickly. Flynn had tried to explain himself, repeatedly insisting that there was nothing behind his decision. Gina was his work partner, she’d been injured, he made sure she was okay. That was it.

But the more he tried to explain, the more frustrated he became and eventually, his normally calm voice had risen.

Now they were both sitting on the couch in silence, the argument having burned itself down into something somehow worse.

Neither of them was speaking and Flynn hated it. He hated arguments, he hated unresolved tension but most of all, he hated the feeling that the person he loved most in the world was sitting only inches away from him and somehow felt impossibly far away.

Minutes passed before Flynn rubbed both hands over his face, dragging his palms down slowly before letting them fall into his lap.

His jaw tightened again. He couldn’t stand this. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend I understand what you think happened tonight, but I need you to understand something.”

Flynn turned his head slightly, his expression softening despite the hurt still written across his face.

“Gina is my work partner. That’s it. I know she... likes me... or something. I know she flirts with me and I know you know that, too.” His brows pulled together, “But I have never encouraged her, not once.” his fingers tightened together “She got hurt during an arrest we made together. I couldn’t just leave her at the hospital and go home because I was worried about how it might look to you. What kind of partner would I be if I did that?”

He shook his head, his voice growing more desperate.

“She broke her finger, that’s all that happened. I waited until the doctors said she was fine, and then I came home and told you exactly what I’d done.”

His eyes dropped briefly toward his hands and the frustration in his face slowly gave way to something more vulnerable; Deep, genuine hurt.

“What I don’t understand is why you’re treating me like I did something wrong by making sure somebody was okay.”

He exhaled shakily and leaned back against the couch, staring ahead for a moment before he looked toward her again.

“And honestly that part hurts the most.” Flynn swallowed hard “Because you’re not just upset that I stayed at the hospital but you’re acting like there’s something between me and her that I’m not telling you.” his brows drew together, his eyes carrying a mixture of disbelief and pain “Do you really think I’d cheat on you?”

The question came out softer than everything else, almost wounded.

“After five years of marriage? After everything we’ve built together?” He shook his head slowly. “I come home to you every night because you’re the person I want to come home to. You’re the one I married. You’re the one I love.”

His voice cracked slightly with emotion, and he looked away for a moment, gathering himself.

“I understand why Gina bothers you. I do. I’ve seen the way she acts. I’ve tried to ignore it because I don’t want problems at work, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to it.” He paused, his expression faltering slightly. “But you... You’re my wife. I shouldn’t have to prove to you that I’m loyal every time something happens at work, I did the right thing tonight and somehow I’m sitting here feeling like I’ve betrayed you. That isn’t fair. I need you to trust me. Please.”