Taylor hummed softly to herself as she and Brett bustled around the kitchen, adding the final touches to Firehouse 51's Thanksgiving meal. Today marked one month since she had gotten the spot that had suddenly come available on Squad 3. Today also marked her eighth month in Chicago. It had been a rough transition, but it had been worth it so far.

"Done." Brett announced, placing the last neatly wrapped bundle of silverware onto a table.

Taylor gave her new – and so far best – friend a well-deserved high-five. "Fit for a king."

Brett laughed, "We make a great team."

"We make an awesome team." Taylor grinned.

"Something smells amazing!" Mouch exclaimed, leading the hoard of firefighters who had been drawn to the break room.

Otis made a beeline for the plates, "Let's eat!"

"Hold it, hold it!" Taylor shouted above the throng. "We gave to say grace first."

She was met with stares.

"Oh, good grief. This won't take but a minute. Put your big girl panties on and hold hands." She watched as the men reluctantly formed a ring around the room. Dawson and Casey were holding hands, naturally. Cruz barely beat Mills to grab Brett's hand, which meant that Mills and Cruz had to hold hands in order to keep the whole thing from looking weird. Brett snatched Taylor's left hand and gave her a little squeeze. Not really paying attention, Taylor held her right hand out to the side. The hand that took hers was strong. She looked up, expecting to see Hermann or Chief Boden. Instead, she saw her Lieutenant.

Severide didn't look at her.

Taylor had long ago gotten the impression that he didn't like her very much, but she didn't know why. She didn't have time to say so much as hello, though; it was time to ask the blessing. She took a deep breath, bowed her head, and closed her eyes, "Almighty Father, we come to You today in the spirit of Thanksgiving. We thank You for the many blessings that You give us, for the food that we are about to partake of, for the brotherhood that we are a part of, and," she squeezed Brett's hand, "for the friendships that we so cherish. Please protect us as we continue to serve the city of Chicago, forgive us when we fail you, and lead us in the way that is most pleasing to You. In Jesus' Name I pray. Amen."

A quiet chorus of amens followed and a few men crossed themselves as hands dropped.

"Dish up!" Taylor happily exclaimed, still holding Brett's hand. She ignored how quickly Severide dropped her hand and moved away.

Chief Boden came up behind the two women, and put a hand on each of their shoulders, "Ladies, you have outdone yourselves."

"Thank you, Sir." they said in unison.

"Come eat with us." Mills said, passing the trio with a plate piled high.

"Are you gonna eat with Squad?" Brett asked as she and Taylor joined the food line.

Taylor looked out at the tables, spotting Squad at their usual table. All of the chairs were full. She tried not to sound disappointed, "Guess not."

"You can sit with us, Taylor." Otis said, overhearing the conversation. "Truck welcomes everyone." he added loud enough for the entire room to hear.

"Thanks, Otis." Taylor was sure her face was scarlet by now.

Several of the guys from Squad had looked up when Otis had spoken. Severide had ignored him.

Newhouse watched Taylor take a seat beside Herrmann, who put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake, praising her and Brett's cooking. "Lieutenant…do we really have to be so hard on her?"

Severide shot him a scathing look.

"She is on Squad now." Capp added. "It, uh, makes us look really bad."

"Then go sit with Truck." Severide growled.

And suddenly, Squad was fed up. They were tired of his mood swings. They were tired of his anger. They were tired of his unpredictability. They were tired of his issues. They were tired of covering for him when he came in hungover. And they were tired of the way that he had been treating Taylor. As one, they gathered their plates and drinks and left the table, leaving Severide to himself.

"Mind if we sit with you guys?" Newhouse asked, feeling suddenly awkward.

Casey grinned, "Truck welcomes everyone."

...

"What's your deal?"

Severide paused beside his car. He really didn't want to deal with her right now. "Go home, Taylor." He started to open the passenger side door, but her hand shot past him and slammed the door shut. Angry, Severide whirled around to face her, "What the hell?"

She didn't flinch, meeting his blazing blue eyes with her own fierce hazel graze. "I want to know what your beef is with me."

He started to speak. No, he started to yell. He started to curse. He started to shake her. He started to tell her to go back to Georgia. But instead, he deflated. Sighing heavily, his shoulders drooped. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Taylor…" He sighed again, "I'm sorry. I've been a jerk. I just…have a lot on my mind."

"That doesn't give you the right to be a turd."

She was right. He'd been nothing but rude to her since she'd come to 51. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry."

Taylor looked hard at Severide, trying to read him. His eyes held many emotions. At length, she stepped back and said, "Apology accepted."

"Taylor!" Brett called, jogging over to where they stood, "Cruz and I are gonna grab some coffee. Wanna come?"

Taylor shrugged, instantly changing her tone of voice into a casual, upbeat tone. "Sure."

"What about you, Lieutenant?" Brett looked at him expectantly.

"No, thanks. I've got a couple of things that need to get done." It was a lame excuse, but an excuse nonetheless.

"Suit yourself." Brett took Taylor by the elbow and led her away.

Severide watched them go. Taylor looked back over her shoulder and their eyes met. Her gaze was…piercing. Like a predator locking eyes with its prey. It was all he could do to stifle a shiver.

...

"Are you okay?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice. He'd been staring at Shay's locker. Shay's locker that now had Taylor's name on it. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She sat down beside him on the bench in the locker room. "You don't look fine."

"I am." He didn't want to deal with her. Not now, not ever. He started to stand, but she caught his arm and gently but firmly pulled him back down.

"Lieutenant…" She didn't take her hand off of his arm, "Please."

He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. Instead, he stared at his hands. "…Have you ever lost someone close to you? Someone you loved more than anything or anyone else in the world? Someone whose absence has literally ripped your heart out?"

She was silent for a moment. "I have."

Frowning, he finally looked at her, "You have?"

Slowly, Taylor untucked a silver chain from around her neck. On it hung a man's silver wedding band and a woman's silver wedding set. "My husband was a sheriff's deputy. He was killed in the line of duty while making a traffic stop. I was twenty-three, he was twenty-four. I have a pretty good idea of what you're talking about."

Severide looked at the rings that rested in her hand, "How did you...deal with that?"

"I didn't. I cried, oh I cried. And I screamed. And yelled. And cussed. And questioned everything I'd ever thought I knew." Taylor chuckled ruefully as the painful memories began to surface, "Broke my hand on a stud once. Got mad over Jason bein' gone and punched a wall." She sighed as she tucked the chain away, "I was drowning. Fast. And I didn't care. But, just before I went completely under, somebody who had endured a similar situation came to me just like I'm comin' to you now. They asked if I was ok, and I lied and said yes. They knew I was lyin', so they gave me their phone number and told me to call them if I needed anything at all. I lied again and said I would even though I told myself I wouldn't. Well...I came to myself one night while I was loadin' my revolver. I had intended to kill myself, honestly. But I picked up the phone instead." She realized she'd been staring at her clasped hands and looked up at him, "By the Grace of God go I. …So, I'm gonna give you my phone number. You're more than welcome to call me, text me, whatever, any time. I don't care if it's two in the morning." She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

He took it and opened it, reading her out-of-state number.

"And I'm gonna ask you to talk to me. I know you don't want to. I didn't want to. But I've been where you are and I know where you're goin'. I'd like to stop you before you get there." She stood, "It gets better, Lieutenant. It'll always be with you, but it gets better. If Shay loved you as much as you love her, I think she'd want you to be happy, not sad."

...

Taylor had made it almost all of the way back to the bay when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Slowing slightly, she fished it out and opened the text message.

I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. Can we start over?

She smiled, and responded with Hi! I'm Shelby Taylor. I'm the new member of Squad 3. You can call me Shelby or Taylor, whatever suits your fancy. :)

Hi, Shelby. I'm Kelly Severide. I'm Squad's Lieutenant. How do you like Chicago?

Taylor thought for a moment before replying with I think I'm gonna like it here.

...

Author's Note: Yay! First chapter! Let me know what you think. Please be nice. Constructive criticism is welcome, but if you're gonna be a turd, go lay in the yard! I own this thing's plot line, and Shelby and Jason Taylor. I don't own Chicago Fire or any part of NBC.