Hailey Upton wasn't a flower type of woman. She didn't care much for them. She gave them to friends and family if they were in the hospital, if it was their birthday, if the occasion called for it. The smiles on the faces of people she gave flowers to made the purchase worth it. Receiving them, though, wasn't something she particularly cared for. If people gave her flowers, of course she'd take them and put them in the sole vase she owned, trying to keep them alive for as long as she could. But she worked long hours, longer days, and either she wasn't home enough to water them or she didn't care enough. More often than not, she threw them out before they even withered all the way.

So, yeah. Flowers weren't that big of a deal to Hailey.

Until red roses.

Her partner had bought them to keep up his cover in front of Shane Sullivan, acting as a customer looking for flowers rather than a cop questioning Sullivan's wife. They were pretty, that much Hailey could admit; bright red roses with baby's breath wrapped in plastic and purple tissue. Their scent teased the inside of the truck once Jay had gotten in, catching Hailey's attention as he showed them to her before putting them on the passenger seat. Her seat.

In the tension of the case, in the drudged up memories of her childhood she hated to revisit but always existed in the back of her mind, she'd almost forgotten about those gorgeous red roses. She'd forgotten about them amidst trying to nail Shane to the domestic violence, robbery and homicide charges—only one of which stuck. And she'd definitely forgot about them sitting at the bar across from Jay, recounting painful childhood memories of her parents and trying to keep the bitterness out of her mouth at the thought of her mom still being with her dad. But like she had told Jay; every situation was different. You build a life with someone, you love them. . . It's hard to let it go, no matter how bad it gets. Sometimes Hailey wished she believed them all the way, to make herself more understanding to what her mom went through.

Hailey had forgotten about the red roses as she told Jay how she wished someone, in her childhood, and swept in and saved them—her mom—from her dad's drunken, dangerous habits. She'd forgotten about the roses amidst looking at her partner, not for the first time thinking what a damn hero he was. She'd forgotten about the roses as Jay looked back at her from across the table, a look in his eyes echoing the pain he felt upon hearing just a smidge of what Hailey's childhood was like, wishing he could've done something to stop it, despite the fact that he'd, too, be a kid at the time. Anything to help her.

She had totally forgotten about the roses by the time they had decided to leave the bar, staying extra long to 'sober' up. Not that they were drunk at all, given the little amount of drinks they had. But still.

It wasn't until they got to the parking lot, both approaching their vehicles that were parked right next to each other, the lot empty save for two other cars. Hailey reached her door, looking over the roof of her car as she said, "Night, Jay."

"Wait."

She paused, raising an eyebrow as Jay ducked into his car for a moment before straightening and walking around her vehicle. That signature half smirk curled at one corner of his lips, and Hailey dropped her gaze to his hand, a soft laugh escaping her as her breath fogged in front of her face because of the weather. "You still have those?" she questioned, eyeing the red roses he'd gotten from Michelle Sullivan's store.

"Yeah," he lightly chuckled, holding them up as they both examined the bouquet. "They're still alive and well." Then Jay held them out, smirk still on his freckled face as he said, "For you."

Hailey eyed them for a moment, inhaling softly through her nose as she tried to ignore the way her heart seemed to be picking up its pace, slamming against her chest. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, telling herself that this didn't mean anything. That Jay was only giving her the roses so they didn't go to waste; what other woman could he give them to? He wasn't exactly the type to have a bouquet of roses in his own place. He just didn't want them to go to waste. That's all.

Apparently Hailey remained in her contemplative silence for too long, because suddenly Jay's expression fell as his green eyes dropped to the flowers. "Unless it's too, uh, uncomfortable. You know, with the case and all." He let out an awkward, almost sheepish chuckle, the smirk disappearing and being replaced with the expression of an embarrassed man. "I can just get rid of them—"

"No, no." The denial slipped past Hailey's mouth without much thought, cutting Jay off as his eyebrows raised slightly. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, hoping to God she didn't sound desperate or something. Trying to recover, Hailey offered a smile, dimples making their appearance, as she said, "I'll take 'em. No point in perfectly good roses going to waste, right?"

Jay mirrored her smile, but when her blue eyes met his green, she saw an undertone of something she was too hesitant on acknowledging. The way he was looking at her. . . it seemed to say so much more than his verbal response of, "Right."

They bid goodnight after that, Jay not pulling out of the lot until she did, and the entire drive home, Hailey did her best not to look at the floral arrangement sitting on her passenger seat. But their presence sat heavily on her mind, and her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she propped her left elbow on the door, running her fingers through her hair before leaning her head against her hand. Why was she reading into it? It was nothing. She needed to get a grip.

But when she got home, tossing her keys on the counter as they clattered and pulled out that one vase she owned, Hailey couldn't fight the stupid smile that quirked at her lips as she placed the beautiful roses in them. She rested the vase in the middle of the counter, hands bracing herself against it as she eyed them. They looked pretty in the middle of her kitchen, a splash of color against the brown and beige tones of the room.

Hailey blinked then, eyebrows knitting together when among the red petals and baby's breath, she caught sight of a little white piece of paper. She leaned forward, plucking it off, unsure of how she'd missed it before—some detective she was, she couldn't help but think wryly.

It was a small envelope, tiny enough to comfortably rest in the bouquet, and curiosity got the better of her as she opened it and slid out the single piece card that was inside. And as her eyes read over the achingly familiar handwriting, her heart once again began pounding against her chest.

Hailey,

Thank you for everything. Know that I will always have your back the way you have mine. I promise.

Jay.

She let out a soft, long exhale, wondering when she allowed her emotions to get the better of her as she felt her throat close up. Hailey rolled her lips into her mouth, feeling the smile easily lift up the corners as she read the words over and over again. Had he written this in the shop when he bought the flowers? Or after the fact?

Hailey didn't care. She loved it.

"Where'd you get those?"

Hailey prided herself in not jumping at the sound of Vanessa's voice, shoving the card back in the envelope and shoving it in the pocket of her jacket as she turned to face her friend. The brunette was eyeing the flowers with a raised eyebrow before looking back at Hailey. "Uh, Jay got them when he was undercover at the flower shop. Gave 'em to me rather than just throwing them out."

There was a twinkle in Vanessa's dark eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned her side against the wall. "Jay gave you flowers?"

Nope, no. Hailey couldn't further indulge herself and her feelings more than she already had done. It was dangerous and a bad idea. So she rolled her eyes, shooting her friend a dry smile as she began heading out of the room. "It's not like that."

Vanessa scoffed behind her, not at all convinced. Just like Hailey wasn't entirely convinced, either. "Keep telling yourself that."

She would. Until she decided to stop being afraid and admit the true meaning behind the red roses. For now, it would be between her and the little card from her partner she knew she would keep safe in her bedside drawer.