A/N: Based on a prompt from youcantmakeme: "Tell me that you need me." Yes, this could've been a one-shot but I grew rather fond of this story and thought it'd read better if expanded on, so...
The Cold Case
Jess was woken up by the phone sound of her cellphone blaring through the quiet of the night. She swore that if this wasn't important, she'd kill whoever was on the other end of the phone because there were very few days that she actually got a good night's sleep and she'd been counting on tonight being one of them.
Apparently, she was wrong.
She reached over for her phone kept on the nightstand and held it in front of her face, squinting to read the name displayed on the screen. She recognised the number immediately. Nearly a year later, she still knew his number by heart and she wasn't too pleased about that.
She considered simply not taking the call, because really, the audacity he had to just call her up an year later at 3 in the goddamn morning. She stared at it, waiting for it to stop ringing. After a few seconds, it did and sighing, she was about to go back to sleep when it started to ring again.
Groaning, she massaged her temples and realised that there was no choice in the matter; he would keep calling till she picked it up.
"If someone doesn't pick up my first call, I call a second time only if it's important. And if they don't pick it up then, I'll just keep calling till they pick it up," he used to say.
She didn't want her phone ringing all night, that was for sure. Granted, she could just keep her phone and silent and go back to sleep, but her Mom might call. Or her Dad. Or hey, what if Abby decided to reach out?
Besides, what could be so important that he was calling her, of all people, at this time of the night, she swiped the green button on her phone.
"Well, hello to you too."
"It's 3 in the morning, Miller," she growled. "This is the time you decide to call after a year of radio silence?"
He was silent for a few seconds, and Jess could picture his guilty face and the nearly inaudible sigh of remorse he would let out. She was just starting to wish she hadn't been that rude when he replied.
"Do you think I'd break a year of radio silence if this wasn't important, Jessica?" he retorted.
"Don't say my name like that," she snapped, annoyed that he would take her full name in that stupid accent of his.
"Like, what?" he asked innocently, but she could hear the smirk in his voice.
"You know, what," she hissed. Stupid, Miller.
"Good to know that it still-"
"Don't you say it, Miller," she said warningly, sitting up in bed.
"-turns you on," he finished.
"Shut up," she said, annoyed. "Get to the point, will you? I'm really not in the mood for whatever childish game you're playing at."
Nick sighed again, falling silent for a few more seconds. "Nick?" she said with emphasis.
"Well, okay, Jess," he said. "Straight to the point it is. Layman has resurfaced. Homicide in Brooklyn. Same MO."
"No way," she said, immediately interested, sitting up in the bed.
"Way," said Nick. "And other than me, no one knows the case better than you do, so…"
"Oh," said Jess slowly, starting to grin despite herself. "You need me."
"Hey, hey, that's not true," started Nick. "I- I can take Winston's help. Or Peralta's..."
"Great, that's settled then. You have someone to help you!" said Jess chirpily and waited.
"Ugh, fine. Okay. Okay. You're right," he sighed.
"Good. Say it, Miller."
"Tell me that you need me," smirked Jess, thoroughly enjoying herself.
"Fine," he muttered. "Jessica, I need you."
"Why didn't you say so?" she said, with a chuckle. "Meet me tomorrow at The Or-"
"-The Orange Blossom Cafe?"
"Um, yeah," she said, after a surprised pause.
"Great, see you then!"
Working an old case with her ex-husband; the case they'd fallen in love while working on the last time, nonetheless.
This is going to be so much fun, she thought to herself darkly as she drifted off to a troubled sleep, ignoring the thrumming sense of excitement.
A/N: Please leave reviews, guys. It's awful upsetting to see increasing readers/viewers but no one having a single thing to say, and it's been happening a lot lately :( Yes, I'm a compulsive writer, but knowing whether the story even reads well and if people are even liking it makes me actually want to write instead of just a compulsion.
Wow, had to get that off my chest. It's been troubling me for weeks. You can call me pathetic or whatever. I, in fact, am I suppose. Oh well, enjoy the reeeaddddd! Sorry about not updating the others, the prompt had been waiting a long while and I didn't want to put it off. :)