"No. But it would be real." Lena's voice carried the weight of someone who'd spent years keeping her private life carefully separated from her professional one. "No more flying under the radar. No more keeping our relationship in a neat little box marked 'personal.'"
"We weren't doing such a great job of that anyway," Erin pointed out. "Apparently the whole city knew you went into that building to save me."
"Because I couldn't hide it anymore." Lena's admission was quiet but certain. "In that moment, watching that building burn, knowing you were inside…I couldn't pretend I was just your colleague. I couldn't pretend I didn't love you more than my own safety."
The words hung between them, honest and stark.
"So maybe we've already made the choice," Erin said softly. "Maybe we're just catching up to what everyone else already knows."
Lena was quiet, considering. "The disclosure forms are just paperwork to make it official."
"And everything else?"
"Everything else is choosing to be proud of each other." Lena reached for Erin's hand, their fingers intertwining across the hospital blanket. "Choosing to let people see that two women can solve cases and save lives and love each other all at the same time."
Erin thought about the cards surrounding them, the messages of gratitude from their community. She thought aboutPhoenix Ridge, healing and rebuilding after everything Ashford had tried to destroy.
"What happened to us," she said slowly, "finding each other through all this mess, it's part of how Phoenix Ridge fought back."
"Ashford wanted to make the LGBTQ+ community invisible and afraid. He wanted to prove we didn't belong." Lena's voice grew stronger. "Us being together, being visible, being proud of what we've built—that's the opposite of everything he stood for."
Erin felt the decision settling in her chest like something that had always been there, waiting for her to recognize it. "I don't want to hide anymore."
Lena squeezed her hand. "Neither do I."
But tonight, in this hospital room full of flowers and gratitude, Erin felt the quiet certainty of a decision made together. They'd survived fire and nearly losing each other. They could survive being seen.
More than that, they could be themselves, openly and without apology.
And that felt like enough.
EPILOGUE
Lena woke to the sound of Erin arguing with Detective Whiskers in the kitchen, their voices carrying down the hallway. Five years of Saturday mornings, and the routine never got old.
"No, you cannot have bacon. It's bad for you." Erin's voice carried the patient exasperation of someone who'd had this conversation before. "Don't give me that look."
Lena stretched, cat-like herself, and padded barefoot toward the kitchen of the house they'd bought three years ago. Afternoon light streamed through the windows, catching the dust motes that danced around Mocha Bean, who was sprawled in her favorite sunbeam on the windowsill, completely ignoring the drama unfolding below.
Cinders, their orange tabby rescue from a warehouse fire two years ago, wove between Erin's legs with the persistence of a creature who knew exactly how to work the soft touch in their household.
"You're being manipulated," Lena observed, leaning against the doorframe to watch Erin flip pancakes while simultaneouslytrying to prevent Detective Whiskers from investigating the bacon cooling on a plate.
"I am not." Erin shot her a look over her shoulder, hair escaping from her ponytail in the way that meant she'd been cooking for a while. "I'm being strategic. If I give him a tiny piece now, he'll leave me alone for the rest of breakfast."
"That's literally the definition of being manipulated."
Detective Whiskers, as if sensing an ally, padded over to Lena and began his campaign, a series of pitiful meows that would have convinced anyone who didn't know him that he was wasting away from neglect.
"Don't even try it with me," Lena told him sternly. "I know exactly how much you ate this morning."
Erin laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Remember when you said you'd never be one of those people who talked to cats like they were children?"
"I maintain that I'm talking to him like he's a very small, furry criminal. Which he is." Lena moved to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug. "Speaking of criminals, did you catch him with the catnip again?"
"Yesterday. Found it shredded all over the bathroom floor." Erin successfully flipped the last pancake. "I think he's dealing to the other two now."
As if summoned by the accusation, Mocha Bean stretched luxuriously in her sunbeam and hopped down to join the breakfast negotiations. Unlike Detective Whiskers' dramatic appeals or Cinders' physical manipulation, Mocha Bean simply sat and stared, projecting an air of feline superiority that suggested she was above such common tactics.
